


Carnage

by Killerxqueen3122



Category: Pitch Black (2000), The Chronicles of Riddick Series, The Chronicles of Riddick: Assault on Dark Athena, The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury, The Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Furyan, Horror, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killerxqueen3122/pseuds/Killerxqueen3122
Summary: On a world of monsters, convict Jay tries to escape from M6-117 after the transport ship crashes. Among other problems, Jay can't seem to shake the blue-eyed devil trying to keep her in chains. Encountering the convict Riddick, the kid Jack, and Fry, Jay is in for a hell of a journey. Will she make it out alive?Work in progress!





	1. It Begins

JAY

Before she ended up locked in cryo - half conscious with bonds around her wrists - she could remember seeing her bounty posted on the screens around the capital of Lupus 5. She had recognized the symbols that spelled out her name and her digitized face. She had inwardly winced. It was not her best picture. Freshfooted, it had been taken soon after her escape from Butcher Bay correctional facility. The surviving bits of the prison security uniform she had stolen had still hung off her shoulders. The night leading up to that arrest had included a dash through a city in a downpour. It was pathetic what that can do to a girl’s hair. The busted lip she had sported and the indignation that was etched into the large-eyed look she had given the photographer gave a certain sense of defiance. Though not out of vanity, the novelty of looking up and seeing herself on the big screens hadn’t worn off and the shock caused her to slip up in her usual vigilance.

NAME: JANE DOE  
HEIGHT: APPROX. 5’6”  
WEIGHT: APPROX. 60 kgs  
AGE: APPROX. 25  
EYES: GOLD  
HAIR: BROWN  
RACE: CREDIAN  
SEX: F  
MARKINGS/TATTOOS: IDENTIFICATION NUMBER 312722319  
BOUNTY: 1.5 MIL UDs

She sighed despairingly at her posted bounty, it was beginning to rain and the crowd picked up pace as they made their way through the streets. Her eyes adjusted to compensate for the darkening hour, but her stance was antsy. She could sense the shadow that had followed her from four blocks back, but she was determined to shake it before the night was over.

In hindsight, slipping into the side alley was not her most thought-out maneuver. Sheer cement walls towered three stories high and blocked the other end. It drew her up short. Jay paused, she considered scaling the wall but the pattering drizzle made it too slick. The _ping_ of the rain against the scaffolded roofs became louder, and dirty puddles were beginning to form in the low spots of the pavement.

  
When she whipped around to make a quick exit she came face-to-face with a devil. Not your average one at that; he was really quite handsome if you could overlook the cloying medicinal scent that clung to him. Blond, trim, and classically attractive, she would have taken her time to appreciate him if he hadn’t had a shooter pointed at her. Jay looked down the barrel at him. The rain had quickly soaked his uniform and had begun to curl his hair. His blue eyes looked intently into hers. The corner of his mouth smugly quirked upwards. Black trousers, safety vest, badge, black shirt. He looked like a lawman but the way he pointed his shooter between her eyes made her reconsider. A merc for sure.

  
“Well now, I think it’d be best if you came with me, sweetheart,” he spoke in a low twang.

  
She grinned at him, “I don’t know if that's the best idea. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” His lips peeled up into a real smile at her response as if there was nothing more he wanted to hear than a threat of violence.

“I’m not so worried about that.”

  
Backing her up against the cement of the alley wall, he began groping his hand around looking for weapons with one hand moving over her. He placed his gun to under her chin. 

Jay watched him carefully and caught it when his finger slipped away from the trigger and she threw her head forward knocking her forehead into his nose. The devil was surprised by her movement, he swore and stumbled a step back. She tried to use the distraction to reach for his gun in his outstretched arm. Unfortunately, he had seen it coming and swung his hand back and caught her in the jaw with the butt of his pistol. She recovered from the blow quickly and caught the hem of his shirt in a smooth act to bring his face into her already swinging fist. He stumbled but grabbed for her before she could swing again. They scuffled but he had enough time to catch the collar of her jacket, tearing it and shoved her back into the alley wall. Jay’s head smacked back with a snap and it was with enough force that her vision swam.

  
“Don’t make me be rough with you,” he had ground out gritting his teeth. The pretty devil grasped her wrists together and strapped on some manual bonds. While holding his gun to her face, he relieved her of the shiv tucked into the back of her utility pants. After some forceful jostling, he whipped her around and shoved her out into the night.

  
“What’s your name,” Jay had shot over her shoulder mindful of the gun to her back.

  
“Johns” he had said.

….

RIDDICK

‘They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo sleep: all but the primitive side, the animal side.  
No wonder I'm still awake.  
Transporting me with civilians...sounds like 40, 40 plus.  
Heard an Arab voice; some hoodoo holy man probably on his way to New Mecca.  
But what route, what route...?  
Smelt a woman: sweat, boots, tool belt, leather.  
Prospector type.... Free settlers, and they only take the back roads.  
And here's my real problem; Mr. Johns, blue-eyed devil.  
Plannin' on taking me back to slam, only this time he picked a ghost lane.  
A long time between stops, a long time for something to go wrong.  
He’s got a girl in chains beside me.  
Some Credian thief being transported to the same hell I’m headed.’

It didn’t take too long for something to come up.  
The clang and wiz of high-speed space rocks came shooting into the hull. Took a lot of force to streak through a foot of layered titanium alloy. The copper scent of blood permeated. Addictive and lethal, unlike the dead metal of the bit Johns had put in Riddick’s mouth. 'It was all precautionary... It would prove to be useless. He had to give the merc credit though: he was doing everything to keep him restrained. Max security cryo cell, steel shackles, blindfold. All in place, all top of the line. Wanted to drag him off to the Tangier Penal Colony. Something about higher bounties and decent noodles. Fuckin' merc. No brain, no spine.'  
A thump sounded and a man spoke from somewhere in the ship "Why did I fall on you?"  
“He's dead! The captain is dead! I was looking right at him!” Came a woman’s voice. Riddick grimaced through the bit.  
‘This can’t be good.’ he thought.

….

FRY

Disoriented from cryo, Fry read the stasis screen from her tube. Emergency P280 hull breach. Gravity had kicked on. Tom Mitchell, Greg Owens, and herself were all waking. 40 cryo-lockers intact and operational. An alarm blared throughout the ship and she glanced out into the cabin. Fry watched as matter shot through the hull and hit Captain Mitchell in the chest. His body shook from the velocity of the projectiles before he slumped over in his locker, blood spattering within. His stasis going from waking to flatline. Her eyes shot wide in panic and her hand fumbled for the release handle before she was ejected from the tube. Landing on the floor with a thunk, she began to rise once her muscles adjusted to the gravity until the heavy body of the NAV officer Owens landed across her back. Grunting and coughing from the wind being knocked out of her.  
“Why did I land on you?” Owens asked confused.  
“He’s dead! The captain is dead! I was looking right at him!” Fry wheezed out, running a million different scenarios and solutions through her head.  
“The chronos shows we’re 22 weeks out, so gravity was not supposed to kick in for another 19. Why’d I fall at all?!” Owens went on. His voice rose in volume and alarm.  
“Did you hear what I said?” Fry repeated, “The Captain’s dead.”  
Owens and Fry both glanced back at the captain’s locker. The thick glass door was shattered from where the projectiles entered and the inside was coated in blood.  
Electrical buzzing brought both of their attentions to the front of the cabin where the ships control panel began beeping in warning. They jumped up and shimmied into their flight suits and shoes. Studying the controls dash and the screens, Fry began taking inventory of the gauges.  
“1550 millibars,” she called out. “Dropping 20 mb per minute. Shit! We’re hemorrhaging air! Something took a swipe at us.”  
“Come on. Just tell me we’re still in the shipping lane. Just show me all those stars. Come on! Those big, bright…” Owens drew up short mid sentence and his face became shocked by whatever his screen was showing him. “What?!” Fry demanded and moved into his space to see. What they witnessed sent both scrambling to catch their bearings as the ship careened through the atmosphere towards an orange and beige planet. Plunging towards the surface, alarms began to blare louder.  
“This is an emergency dispatch from the merchant vessel Hunter Gratzner en route to the Tangiers System with 40 commercial passengers onboard.” Owens continued over the mic as Fry clambered up into position for docking and landing. She strapped in, removed the window coverings, and her eyes shot wide at the streaks of colour above her. The friction of the Hunter Gratzner entering the atmosphere showed above in beautiful streaks of reds and yellows.  
“We have been knocked out of our shipping lane and are currently entering the atmosphere of a planetary body in this position, X-38-stroke-5, Y-95-stroke-8, Z-21-...” Owens continued but was caught off by the angry grumbling of the ship. Loose and small bodies on the outside of the ship began to peel off and fly past. “Fry, where’s the hell’s our comms?” Owens called up. Her hands began to speed over the dash hitting buttons and flicking switches attempting to stabilize the descent. The ass of the ship was too heavy with the cargo hold, and, at the rate in which they were plummeting, the less aerodynamic solar panels began to break off.  
"RATE OF DESCENT BEYOND KNOWN LIMITS, RATE OF DESCENT BEYOND KNOWN LIMITS", the ship systems alerted.  
“They trained you for this Fry, right?” Owens called.  
The alarms continue throughout the cabin. Fry swiveled around releasing parts of the airlocks and brakes along and near the cargo holds at the back of the ship. If it continued to fall while too heavy in the aft the ship wouldn’t land in a way that they would survive. The computer began to alert to deploy the lower air brakes and updated that the center of gravity was still too far back. "RECOMMEND PURGING BALLAST NOW", the ship rang.  
'I know, I know I’m trying!' Fry thought.  
Fry’s mind was racing at ways to ease the descent. Coming to no other solution besides to jettison the unnecessary loads, she released the back most cargo hold with the pull of a lever. The entire ship jolted and she felt it level teeter through the air.  
“What the..! Was that a purge, Fry?” Owens demanded accusingly from below.  
“Too heavy in the ass! Can’t get my fucking nose down!” Fry shouted back. She released more airlocks and jettisoned another part off the ship.  
“Crisis program selected number two because it shows some oxygen. Maximum terrain 220 meters over mean surface, largely cinder and gypsum with some evaporite deposits.” Owens updated her on the planet we were plummeting towards. She switched some more airlocks to release the remaining compartments sans the main cabin when she heard Owens over the internal comms. “Fry, what the hell are you doing?” Owens sounded startled.  
The computer showed the passengers were waking. Fry knew they needed to be lighter and the ship was still too heavy to land without completely crashing. A vision of the main cabin nose-diving into the surface echoed through her mind and her body coursed with white-hot terror.  
Fry’s hand reached above her head, “I gotta drop more load.” Her hand hovered over the handle as the computer read purge all.  
“Look I’ve tried everything else. I still got no horizon,” she prepared herself for the sacrifice of the entire passenger cabin.  
Owens’s reply came quick, “Better try everything twice, ‘cause we don’t just flush out-“  
Fry interrupted him, “ If you know something I don’t, get your ass up here and take the chair.”  
“Listen, company says we are responsible for every single one of those people, Fry,” Owens responded calmly.  
“What,” she snapped. “we both die out of sheer fucking nobility?” her hand quaked on the handle to eject.  
“Don’t you touch that handle, Fry!” Owens shouted through the comms and from below she heard him scrambling around.  
Hesitating, she removed her hand. Looking out, she took in the readily approaching stone and sand of the planet. Suddenly the entire ship began to shake and clang with strain. More parts of the ship flying off from the force of entry. Making up her mind, Fry reached up for the release handle to all the compartments and yelled, “I’m not going to die for them!”  
She managed to grasp the handle through the jostling of the cabin and yanked down.  
"ERROR AIRLOCK DOORS NOT SECURE, ERROR AIRLOCK DOORS NOT SECURE"  
“Owens!” Fry screamed in frustration and trepidation. He had moved somewhere within the ship and spoke through his comms.  
“70 seconds, Fry. You still have 70 seconds to level this beast out.”  
Fry began kicking at the rear brake lever that seemed to have jammed. “Shit, shit!”  
"AIRLOCK DOORS NOT SECURE, AIRLOCK DOORS NOT SECURE AIRLOCK DOORS NOT SECURE"  
Fry gasped as the lever unjammed and snapped into place releasing the mechanism. The front end of the ship and seemed to level out. Fry stared widely out the window until a brake door flew off and into the glass shattering it. Shards flew at her face and she flung her arms up in defense. The Hunter Gratzner was closely approaching the surface of the planet and the wind and force was blinding. “What the fuck is happening up there?” Owens' voice shouted at the noise of the glass breaking. Alarms continued to blare through the ship. Attempting to shield herself from the sand and air flying at her face, she squinted out the window in wonderment as she realized these were most likely her last moments. The wind howled as the ship neared the ground and Fry watched anxiously as the computer updated the altitude. Closer and closer, the ship approached the planet's surface. Fry braced herself, but nothing could prepare her for the impact.

….

JAY

Jay awoke in her crumpled cryotube. Her blindfold had fallen half off her eyes and she shook her head get it out of her way. The air pressure was higher and her lungs screamed, but she couldn't decide if that was from the locker or where the hell it was they were. Some of the straps within her tube had released and she was held in place by the security belts along her midsection and thighs. Blue bulbs inside her locker allowed her to get a good look at the steel bands that contained Jay’s wrists. There were no apparent weaknesses and they were connected by a long immovable wire. She was stuck.  
"Fuck," she muttered with a groan. There were flashes of her memory that told her that something had gone very, very wrong. Flickering of lights, the smell of blood, and then the final body-jamming impact. The lower cabin was plunged mostly into darkness and debris around her implied they’d crashed. Electrical buzzing went off and loose wires sparked giving enough light to see the extent of the damage. Jay grinned grimly to herself.  
‘Serves Johns right. Ghost lane, civilian commercial airliner, bonds. His mercin' ass could try but nothing was gonna prevent him from what he had coming,’ she thought.  
Jay gave her hands an experimental tug at her bonds. They were still too tight to try to slip her wrist out even if she dislocated a thumb. There was no give at my feet or legs either. She huffed an annoyed breath. She would either die there or Johns would find her. Neither subsequent futures seemed overly appealing.  
Unsure of how long she waited, Jay hung my head and let her mind wander. She considered all options on how to get out of the locker and decided her best option would be to bid her time and wait for the perfect opportunity to overpower Johns. Her nose took in the charged metallic scent of the ship, and she tasted the air. There was a dusty aroma that lay under the smell of the ship. And blood. 'People have died.'  
Jay heard Johns before too long. With her head still lowered, she could hear the rapid beat of his heart stuttering through his chest. His movements clanged quietly when he moved to shove debris from where he had been tucked away. The sickly smell of sweat and fear rolled off of him. He was scared but it wasn't because of Jay this time. She watched him through the thick wave of the hair that covered her eyes. His gaze was almost frantic. Searching blue eyes flitted from her cryo locker to the one next to it. His hand went to the holster where his pistol usually was. ‘Empty,’ Jay thought and snickered under her breath. His heartbeat increased.  
“Be careful out there, Johns,” Jay called out. He looked at her through the cracked glass and moved to stalk off into the ship.  
“Always am, Princess.” he returned.  
After a few minutes, thumping and grunting came from the cabin below and then Johns' tenor voice all smug like. The sounds of a struggle. He returned sometime later once he had time to deal with Jay’s difficult ass. Johns’ eyes lingered over her and she met his eyes with a look of defiance.  
“Finally got some time for me, Johns?” Jay asked him in a soft voice. She hated the look that passed over his face. The one that told her he would have made a pass at her if she wasn’t a murdering convict.  
“I’ve always got time for you, princess.” He replied in a tone that mirrored hers. He typed in the code on the side of the locker that released the door and straps that tied Jay done. She surged forward into him and the door just to test his patience, but he must have been expecting it as he caught the length of her bonds and whipped out his pistol shoving it into her gut.  
“C’mon,” Johns drawled with a quirk of his lips. “Let’s play nice now. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” He dragged Jay away from the tube and pushed her along into the bowels of the ship.

....

RIDDICK

The Credian girl was beside him now. She was the one from before, and she was still in chains from what he could see through the hole in the cloth around his eyes. Now tied to a support beam, she was bound with her hands before her. She was without bit and without blindfold. Johns had either underestimated her or she wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Riddick could sense. This girl was really more of a woman than a girl, and she was a killer. Riddick could see it in the way she held herself against the pillar with her head down and hiding behind her hair. She looked poised and ready for anything.  
From the hole in his blindfold, Riddick observed her through his shined eyes. Though the world was cast in shades of violets, he noticed her hair that cascaded around to her shoulders in a tangle of waves. She was small, for a Credian at least, who he knew could rival in size of himself. Her body was toned muscle and curved edges that came with hard work and a life of running. She had the body language of an animal and it said ‘fuck off’.  
Riddick twisted his body around to take notice of the room that John’s tied them up in. With his hands and ankles bound to a pillar, his mobility was limited but he observed the broken beams and loose piping and waited that hung from the ceiling. Screaming let out from somewhere close by. It was a man’s scream, and it was heightened by pain. His bit banged lightly against the beam at his back as he turned his ear to the noise.  
Shifting her body as well, the torn long-sleeved shirt she wore rode up from the waistline of her pants and she angled her body towards him. Unintentionally, revealing a smooth glimpse of skin at her stomach. Riddick followed the line of her body and came to look at her face. She stared at him clearly knowing he was examining her.  
Her face was striking in a way that drew the eye. Her features gave away her Credian race: she had high cheekbones, an almost sharp chin, and a strong but slightly crooked nose. Her eyes were large and angled slightly. Riddick let out a low grumble in his chest as a streak of curiosity towards the girl struck him. 'Beautiful and dangerous - my favourite combination,' Riddick thought. He positioned himself into a crouch as footsteps approached.  
Someone paused at the entryway to where the two prisoners were held. Their heartbeat was fast and their breathing harsh. A second pair of footsteps approached; heavier and thunking; a man in boots. Riddick’s head tilted back at attention, and the chains clinked. The Credian froze and stared at the doorway through her bangs. Her eyes were watchful and calculating as the docking pilot looked in on the room but as the second person approached she shrunk down closer to the floor. Anyone else would think that she was attempting to make herself smaller, less of a target. However, Riddick new by the way her muscles tighten, the girl was a spring waiting to snap.  
Riddick inhaled heavily through his nose. Blood, sweat, ozone, woman, and the faint medical trace followed Johns around like a dog.  
‘Johns.’ He thought. ‘The Merc was checking in on his payday. So much cred in one room.’  
“He just escaped a maximum prison,” Johns spoke the woman at the door. The was leather-like rustling of his jacket as he moved.  
“So do we just keep him locked up forever?” The woman spoke. Her voice was soft but held a defensive edge.  
“Well, that’d be my choice,” Johns replied.  
The woman dropped her voice to a whisper and asked, “Is he really that dangerous?”  
“Only around humans,” came Johns’ voice and the grin was palpable in his tone.  
“And her?” The woman questioned. “Don’t pay her any attention, just a thieving Credian lowlife,” John’s despairing twang answered. The two turned and left to exit the wreckage of the crash leaving behind the two criminals still in chains. The girl still hadn’t moved once the echo of footsteps ceased. Riddick took his time to look around the room, he noted every sharp edge and nook. The bit was beginning to hurt the corners of his mouth and a steady, throbbing ache started in the muscles of his jaw.  
‘Time to go,’ he thought.  
His breathing became heavy as he straightened his body up from a crouch and twisted to look above him at the break in the beam a foot and a half above his head. He had noticed it during his perusal as well as a cutting torch that hung from a beam a few feet away. Coming to face forward, Riddick extended his arms upward as far as he could behind his back. The strain on the sockets was immense and he pushed himself until they popped out. With a groan of pain, he rotated them over his head and through the break with more ease than a normal man should. Using the motion he leaped forward towards the torch.

....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and feel free to comment and give feedback. xoxox


	2. Escaping Is An Art Form

JAY

Jay watched the other convict warily. He had managed to pop and dislocate his arms to swing them fully over his head and was now more or less free. He whipped off his blindfold and bent to look around for something to shield his eyes. Upon finding discarded torch goggles, he grabbed the small cutting torch hanging from a beam overhead and started to remove the bonds around his ankles. He broke off the cable that attached his ankles together so only the cuffs remained. He got started on his wrists next and then his bit.  
Johns had called him Riddick. The name was familiar - notorious even. Riddick was on most chronos’ on the major planets in the Allied Systems. The Company had put a million cred bounty on his head which made him pursued by nearly every bushwacker and mercenary alike. He was a big, badass motherfucker with multiple counts of murder and theft. Riddick was infamous for his inability to be contained and his current escape maneuver could attest to it.  
He was a behemoth, close in size to that of Credian males, with thick shoulders and well-developed traps and pectoral muscles. He reeked of danger and power. She knew that body came with years of work and maintenance. He was tall, too. Jay would probably have only come up to his chest. His shirt and pants were worn and dusty and his utility boots were scuffed. This man was a dedication to a life on the run. Riddick’s face was fierce with a nose that had been broken one too many times and set mouth. His shaved head and a stubbly shadow along his jaw added to dangerous appeal. He was compellingly attractive.  
She shifted silently once Riddick was completely free of his cuffs. Jay knew he lived by his code. He was a wildcard and she had no idea what to expect of him. There was nothing standing between her and Riddick. He must have sensed her move because his head swung around to face her and that’s when she saw his eyes.  
Riddick had a shinejob done to his iris’ and they glimmered metallically.  
“Stunning,” she murmured under her breath. The silvery depths of his eyes held hers She stood with him, her body language mirroring his.  
They both paused for a heavy moment before he tossed something at her feet and loped away quietly. She was frozen for only a moment. Bursting forward, she worked quickly at the bonds around her wrists and then her ankles.

...

Jay’s flight from the ship took her towards the blue sun. The ship had been in ruins, having broken into pieces scattered for miles along the horizon. The path where the ship had crashed left a scorched scar in the sand and the metal siding was singed from entry. The inside of what was left of the captain and passenger cabin was in no better shape.  
Beams and metal support pillars had buckled in on themselves, and the inner wiring and piping were now exposed. The whole back half of the main compartment was missing, lost sometime between the entry and the inevitable crash. There had been a scuffling movement within the cargo hold, and Jay assumed the remaining passengers were there. The ship smelled of burnt metal and ozone and the scent of friction had tickled her nose. Jay had navigated the wreckage with grace making as little sound as possible until she had found an exit from a hole in the hull.  
The light was excruciating before her highly sensitive eyes adjusted to the brightness. Squinting at her surroundings, Jay had made out the faint blue-ish hue of the sun to her right before dashing off in its direction.  
‘Holy shit,' Jay thought. She was used to a stifling sort of heat that she had experienced on her homeworld Sigma 2. The cave systems she had been raised in were hot and humid from the sheer amount of bodies living within the mining tunnels, but this planet was different.  
The pressure in her lungs had subsided a little but there was an ache in her chest like someone was pushing against her ribs. The arid, dusty air didn’t help and each inhale stung.  
There were rocky hills and cliff sides ahead, and boney outreaching structures peaked over the hills. Jay’s nostrils flared as she scented the air. Earthy, sandy, and something musky lingered slightly. There was very little for her olfactory system to pick up and the dust and light were beginning to tickle at her senses.  
She crested the ridge where she had seen the bony protrusions on the horizon and she came up short. The curved white structures pointed upwards and branched upwards in magnificent arches of bone. Bone projections attached to the spinal columns of enormous beasts that were long dead. It was a graveyard.  
Jay dropped her gaze and carefully placed her feet in an attempt to leave as little trace as possible. She was awestruck with the carcasses. She had never seen a creature so large. Jay had seen spitfires before. The cantankerous beasts had been something to revere but these creatures that had died must have been something of magnificence in life. She reached out as she weaved between towering ribs and leg bones. Running her hand over the smooth surface, she realized there were small grooves and scraps along the bones. These bones were weathered from the elements and had likely been there for quite some time. But there were small chips and indents that should not be there. Her hand snapped away from her subject of interest. Jay knew what bone looked like and she was suddenly very concerned of what had killed so many great things.  
As she weaved between the maze of appendages her mind raced. Disease was always a likely culprit, or, perhaps, the harsh elements. The planet seemed hostile in its unwavering brightness. Her mind scanned over the scattered bits of bone in the sand. Stray small bones littered on the ground. Jay bent to pick an angled small bone the length of her hand. The ends were smoothed down from wind and exposure, but the tip was jagged. It had been broken off of a larger piece.  
Her brow creased. Death was often cruel but sandstorms and disease did not scatter and break bones. These creatures had been eaten. The teeth marks where the flesh had been torn from the bone still remained in smoothed scars.  
Jay pocketed the bone she had picked up. The jagged end could be sharpened to make a shiv and a handle made from wrapping leather from grip. Life had not given her much for education but she had been taught a few very important lessons: how to fight, how to kill, and how to make something from nothing.  
A flash of black caught her attention. She froze and crouched. Her nostrils flaring as the same faint musk lingered in the air.  
‘Riddick’  
The movement had whipped around a bank and she stood to follow.  
‘Surely, if he had helped her he wouldn’t just go and slit her throat for shits and giggles,’ Jay thought. ‘He’d been in the same graveyard as her. Fuck, he’d probably been watching her the whole time.’  
Warily, Jay peaked around the rocky bank under a ribcage. It lead to the deep passage Riddick had disappeared down, but there was no man. She proceeded down the ravine-like passage. The rocky hillside was steep and lead up into sandy spires. The temperature was cooler by several degrees and her skin revelled in the shade. Following the steps of Riddick, Jay jogged up a little hill and looked upon an encampment.

FRY

The Credian and Riddick were gone. He had escaped leaving behind nothing more than some scorched restraints and a bit in the sand. The girl was gone too. Her restraints hadn’t been found though. It was as though she had ghosted away into the desert without a trace. Johns had said she was a weaselly thief that tended towards the more animal side of her race. Both of the convicts unnerved her. Fry shuddered at the thought that they could be anywhere now.  
‘Hopefully, they would stay away,’ she wished.  
Not including the two convicts, there were ten survivors hustling around in a panic. In the bowels of the cargo hold, the little man, Paris, scurried around with Johns and the freesettler couple trying to scrounge up as many weapons as possible. He had spears and other instruments of warfare.  
“What are these?” Fry asked Paris as he returned to the group with his arms laden in antiques.  
“They're Maratha crow-bill war Picks from India. Very rare,” Paris responded very agitatedly.  
“And this?” The free settler Zeke inquired in his lilting accent. He removed an odd-like device from Paris’ bundle.  
“That's a hunting blow-dart pipe from Papua New Guinea.” Paris scurried around snatching objects away from curious, grabbing fingers.  
“That's very rare since the tribe is now extinct,” he continued.  
“'Cause they couldn't hunt shit with these things probably,” Zeke replied snarkily.  
“What's the point? If he's gone, he's gone. Why should he bother us?” Zeke’s wife Sharon - Shazza - asked with indignation. The pretty lady had a backbone of steel and calloused hands from a life of work  
“Maybe to take what you got. Maybe to work your nerves,” Johns began while loading himself up with ammo and gauges. He whirled around and continued with an almost menacing tone, “Or maybe to just come back and skull-fuck you in your sleep.”  
“He sounds like a charmer,” Shazza responded.  
Everyone was suited up and prepared to continue the setup of their basecamp.  
Johns wanted to pursue the convicts. Some of the others seemed adverse.  
“I’m coming with you,” Fry told Johns in a way that didn’t allow for disagreement. He would need help and Fry was more than a little anxious to get away from the crash site.  
Johns looked down at her and propped his hands on his hips.  
“You sure you want to do that? It might get a little messy,” Johns countered.  
“No. I’m coming with you. Besides,” Fry insisted, “Imam and his boys are coming to look for water.”  
Johns’ lips curved up in a charming, cocksure smile. “Alright,” he admonished before leaving the hold to join the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving it a read. Writing comes in spurts for me, but I'm really trying to find the time to get my ideas into the 'verse. Happy reading xo


	3. On the Trail

RIDDICK

She was following Riddick. The Credian girl moved through the sand silently and with a sure-footed grace. Lean limbs and an observant face, she had watched the rocky sides of the passage vigilantly. She was a criminal - a thief, Johns had said - and she wore the title like a second skin.  
‘She moves like a killer,’ Riddick thought.  
He spied from a corner of a derelict shed as she crested the little hill leading into the compound. The length of bone and a piece of metal he had found were clutched in his hand. He was meticulously carving and scraping the piece of bone with the metal. Sculpting and sharpening the end into a deadly tip with a serrated edge. The lack of weapon itched at him. Although resourceful, being unarmed in an unknown place with Johns running around was not a situation he was cozy with. The girl on his tail made him nervous too. She was a wildcard and Riddick didn’t like being nervous. The bone took some time to complete and was still blunt and unfinished, but anything could be a weapon if a person tried hard enough.  
Riddick had watched the girl trailing her way through the boneyard. She had felt her hands across the scars in the bones with long-fingered hands and weaved through discarded rib cages. Every movement she seemed to make was purposeful and efficient. Even as she traced her along his footprints in the sand, the Credian appeared to follow the same animalistic instinct he had to take in every possible escape and entrance to the compound.  
He knew she would find the only way in and out was through the pass they had come from. The Credian lifted her head and Riddick watched as her nostrils seemed to flare. She disappeared into the doorway of the building she stopped at. It was the same building he had gone to first.  
‘What a keen creature,’ Riddick observed. She was following his exact path.  
The air was thin on this planet and she seemed hardly fazed. Even Riddick’s chest ached like he had run for miles. Riddick had known Credians had senses far sharper than that of normal humans and their bodies were more durable. They had been made to be more like an animal. Credians were the driving rank of the Company’s slave force.  
Genetically engineered almost 300 years ago, the Credian race was the first successful deep space subjects that were able to survive long durations of solar radiation and weightlessness. They were a human-based species but had been further engineered after cryo-technology and deep space engineering was adapted to human use. Credian DNA had been edited after the race served its original purpose. Why waste a multi-billion UD enterprise if you didn't have to. Riddick had met a few before in his days as a Company Ranger on Sigma 5. They were a robust species and had been modified to survive the most hostile of environments. He had liked the ones he had known. They had been quiet, compliant, and they had minded their own fucking business.  
Riddick was having difficulty envisioning the small Credian girl as one of the submissive giants.  
‘Girl musta snapped somewhere along the way. I probably woulda, too,’ Riddick mused.  
While the Credian was distracted following his winding trail, Riddick bounded back the way they had come. Thirst was beginning to clench at his throat and the heat bearing down on him didn’t seem to cease. Riddick needed water and maybe shelter, but, most importantly, he needed a way to get the skiff at the edge of the compound in working order. He had business to attend to.

... 

The graveyard was now full of life. Riddick had heard the Arab prayers on the wind long before he saw the ragtag group of survivors. There were only five of them.  
‘Maybe he’d get lucky and Johns wouldn’t be a part of the group,’ Riddick played at the thought of the merc getting picked off in a way he deserved. Shaking his head at the thought, Riddick knew his luck was nowhere near good enough to have that happen.  
Riddick watched as Johns and a woman stumbled down the rocky face of the ravine. A Muslim man and three children followed after them, all chattering as they walked. Their faces were filled with astonished wonder at the graveyard.  
‘Risky, Johns,’ Riddick thought. ‘Kids as bait worked on me once, but I’m not falling for the same trick twice.’  
Riddick shook his head at the merc and crawled up into the shadow of a skull to watch. His back curving into the empty brain cavity.  
The kids were exploring the carcasses of the huge beasts while the holy man followed close behind. They ran hands over the bones the same way the Credian had. The smallest ran a bone shard against the ribs of a smaller skeleton. The echo imitating a musical instrument. The woman wandered off in a different direction and Johns seemed to bring up the back of the pathetic search party.  
Johns had his big gauge gun pulled as he pointedly searched the graveyard for Riddick. Hurriedly sweeping the immediate area, Johns dipped under spines and scanned hidden crevices. However, he missed Riddick’s hidey-hole in his haste.  
Riddick stilled as they moved around him. His breathing steady and focused, Riddick climbed down silently.  
The woman passed his set of bones and paused to adjust a mechanism hanging from her shoulders. She pressed a mouthpiece to her lips and inhaled. The torch goggles he wore didn’t give him much of a range of colour, but he could tell through the tint that her hair was light. It hung to her shoulders and stuck to the sweat on her forehead. She was on the taller side and rather attractive. Long legs, not much muscle, a tight ass, and she was blissfully unaware that he was sneaking up behind her.  
She sat in the shade of the skeleton with her back to the ribs. Riddick fluidly crept behind her and knelt behind her with his bone shiv drawn.  
Johns sauntered up to the woman and Riddick paused. Johns was clutching a bottle of bourbon and greeted her with his sleazy, white-teethed smile.  
He drew his newly altered shiv and Riddick crept forward.  
“Drink?” Johns asked the woman. She smiled grimly back at him.  
She responded and outstretched a hand to the bottle, “Probably shouldn't do this. It dehydrates you even more.”  
The woman unscrewed and took a swig of the contents. Grimacing, she made a noise. Riddick cocked his head.  
“You're probably right,” Johns replied with a smarmy smile.  
Crouching to the woman's level, Johns continued, “You could've stayed at the ship. Probably should've.”  
If he had glanced past her shoulder into the shadows, Johns would have been at eye with Riddick.  
Johns went on, “If we don't find water, you know what happens.”  
The woman’s posture changed and became rigid. Riddick could smell it on the air as the tension racked her body.  
“I wanted to get away.”  
“I've never seen a captain so ready to leave her ship,” Johns quipped with insinuation practically dripping from him.  
‘Smug bastard,’ Riddick thought while watching the interaction.  
The woman pushed off of the skeleton to stand, “I think we should keep moving.”  
Johns pushed his question, “What did Owens mean about not touching the handle?” His voice seemed gentle and caring but Riddick knew he was just a snake with poison on his lips. Riddick rose to mirror her stance.  
“This is between you and me, Carolyn. I promise.”  
The merc sounded almost genuine and the woman stopped. She took a step back into the shade and sighed as she leaned onto the ribs to rest.  
“I'm not your captain,” she began. Johns didn’t move or even blink. Riddick edged closer and rose his shiv to her height. He was prepared to strike out and slip his shiv into her spine.  
“During the landing when,” the woman paused. “Things were at their worst, Owens was at his best. He's the one that stopped the docking pilot from dumping the main cabin.”  
Riddick and Johns seemed to comprehend the meaning of her words at the same time. Johns’ expression changed to mildly surprised and stood. Riddick lowered his shiv in contemplation.  
‘Interesting. Not just another upstart fuck without a spine. Most would freeze but at least she had the balls to try and save her own skin.’ Riddick could respect that.  
“Passengers,” she finished after a heavy moment.  
“And the docking pilot being?”  
The woman’s head swung to look at him. She didn’t need to say it. The answer to Johns’ question hung in the air between.  
Riddick took the tense moment to raise his shiv and nick off a tuft of hair from the base of her neck. She probably felt it but thought nothing of it.  
The tension seemed to almost vanish as Johns stepped forward toward her and placed his hat on her head.  
With a grin, he gently replied, “I guess I'm a little more glad to be here than I thought.”  
Johns walked off and the woman sprung forward, her guilt somewhat relieved. Riddick pressed the hair to his nose and sniffed. It smelled earthy like dust and sweetly musky like sweat. There was a metallic tinge and something chemically like industrial grease. The hair smelled like woman and ship. Riddick pressed it to his nose once more before opening his palm and blowing the tuft into the warm breeze.

…

The group moved onward and Riddick headed back to the crash site. He took his time. Figuring that the group would get distracted by the compound, finding the skiff and the evidence of water. They would be a while and the remaining survivors were of very little concern to him. Civilians were not to be underestimated, but it was likely they were unarmed going about setting up basecamp.  
‘Besides,’ Riddick thought. ‘I wanna be as far from Johns as I can get.’  
Approaching the crashed ship, Riddick picked his across the rocks and sand on a different route than he had fled. At the possibility of a lookout, Riddick wanted the survivors to be as unaware of his presence as possible. He weaved his way over scorched ruts in the sand and charred wreckage. The main cabin was the closest piece and a few holds and cabins were scattered around and behind it as they had been thrown off during the landing.  
Sure enough, there was a lookout perched on the top of a compartment. A frilly umbrella stuck out of a chair and a little man lounged in the shade swigging from a bottle. Riddick licked his lips.  
A clang sounded to his left. Farther back in the wreckage, someone was moving around. Riddick watched the little man on lookout jump forward at the noise and pause to listen for another sound. He moved clumsily down the broken ship and raced towards the main cargo hold running straight past Riddick.  
The little man spoke loudly at the entrance of the cargo hold and Riddick stood and moved towards the perch and bottle the lookout had abandoned.

…

JAY

Creeping through the shadows of the compound had been … eerie. The pictures were still on the walls and belongings on the shelves. It was as though everyone who had lived here had just vanished. A thick coating of dust and sand covered everything in the buildings. Jay did a quick perusal of the buildings she thought there might be water or food. She had come up empty-handed, but not completely.  
There was a skiff at the edge of the compound between the main buildings. A beauty of a rust bucket. The ramp had been left open but the inside seemed to be in a half-decent state. The possibility it would run was slim but there was still a sliver of hope.  
Jay knew how powerful hope could be. She absentmindedly rubbed her left forearm.  
The breeze caught her attention. Jay lifted her head towards the pass that led to the compound.  
‘Sweat, booze, spice; People are coming.’  
Jay raced between buildings with her arms pumping. She was always good for a fight but if she got caught and they had a blaster she was screwed. Running down the slope down into the passage she jaunted up the slope of the cavern side and hid in the crags. There were spires of sandy stone around her that towered three times her height and she crouched between two large ones as a band of survivors marched under her.  
Jay cocked her head in fascination as she watched. Johns led the group closely followed by a pretty blonde woman. Three children and a man trailed behind them. Eyes wide in amazement, the children gazed at the canyon’s high walls as they walked in its shade. Johns had his gauge trained upwards as he watched the crags for movement.  
He looked so do-right in his vest and badge. If her time in his custody had taught her anything, the blue-eyed demon was a cowardly snake and a hype to boot. Jay’s nose twitched remembering the sickly, medicinal smell of the morphine that clung to Johns’ skin.  
The troop passed quickly and Jay rose from her crouch. Rising, Jay looked around warily. Her arm brushed the spire she stood beside.  
Jay swallowed a gasp. The spire was resonating a humming sound. Jay pushed her ear to the column and listened to the low buzzing was rising from the earth.

…

The walk back to the crash site went quickly, but as the sound of a gunshot rang through the air Jay’s pace sped up into a jog. If she had heard the shot, the other group probably did too.  
‘There was no way she was gonna get caught dehydrated out in the dunes,’ Jay thought stubbornly.  
She was Credian and she could go days in the heat without water before she would die. She was well-bred, but dehydration made anyone weak. Even Her.  
Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight glistening off the sand. The gleam was almost blinding but she could make out the clear horizon. They didn’t have a lookout or a perimeter.  
She wasn’t surprised. Limited resources and two escaped convicts made for hard group organizing. A smile tugged at her lips. It pulled slightly to one side because of the scar bisecting her bottom lip.  
‘Maybe today would be her lucky day.’  
She approached the craggy spires and wove between the stones. In the distance, a dragging noise drew towards her. Pausing, Jay whirled pushing her back against a spire to hide out of sight of anyone coming towards her. The same buzzing rumble echoed from the earth. Jay closed her eyes and tilted her head towards it. There was life on this planet - deep in the earth - and she could not just hear it but feel it. Like a warming resounding essence, it moved beneath the ground.  
Jay’s head clicked to her right as she caught a small noise.  
‘Footsteps,’ Jay crouched and swung around.  
She closed her eyes and focused her ears towards the sound. Underneath the soft crunching of stone beneath a shoed foot, a heartbeat echoed steadily.  
Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.  
A man was close.  
Jay rose and stalked towards the heartbeat. She knew exactly who it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to make my work as clean and readable as possible before I publish it but sometimes my mistakes slip through... even after the third time previewing it (heehee).  
> I'm trying to capture the 'lone-survivor' mindset Riddick has in his thoughts and even in the way I narrate his parts. I hope it's starting to come through.  
> As well, I hope some questions about Jay's past are beginning to spring up in your minds. We'll see where it takes us ;)  
> Thank you so much for reading xo


	4. An Interrogation... Of Sorts

RIDDICK

Riddick stood behind a spire paces away from a pit in the ground. One of the free settlers dug it. Pickaxes, work boots, sweat spiked air.  
‘The bodies gotta go somewhere,’ Riddick thought. There was a sound from the pit that drew Riddick’s attention. A civilian approached from the crash site dragging a man-sized burden behind him. It was wrapped in a tarp and was placed on a sled for the stout free settler to drag around. The man was huffing with exertion and he was puffing on the same sort of oxygen mechanism the blonde woman had. Riddick stayed hidden behind the spire.  
‘Poor bastard got killed ‘cause the civilian fuckers are too scared of me to look before they shoot,’ Riddick shook his head and glanced at his boots.  
Movement caught his eye to his left, distracting him. It was a flash of something in his peripheral like fabric in the wind.  
‘The Credian girl at my back again. A stubborn tail I can’t seem to shake.’  
The survivor was moving around adjusting the tarp covering the pit. There was a shuffling and small “woosh” as the tarp was thrown back. Riddick stalked over to the edge to look in as the man jumped into the hole. There was a presence at his back. The girl was behind him and downwind.  
‘Tricky, girl,” Riddick was mindful of her but didn’t turn to address the Credian.  
There was a scuffling in the hole and Riddick looked in as the man stuck his upper body into a small hole in the side of the pit. Riddick assumed it was not made by the man.  
The same small noise from before echoed again. There was something in the hole and is was not just the free settler. The man reached his hand to his utility belt and grabbed at his small blaster and his torch when something seemed to grab the man from inside the hole.  
Struggling and kicking the man was being dragged through the opening. The blaster went off: once, twice, and then three, four times. There was a wet tearing noise and blood was beginning to splatter against the sand. Riddick rushed forward and peered down into the pit directly where the hole was. He drew his bone shiv and watched in fascination.  
‘Guy’s a goner,’ Riddick thought and cocked his head. There was yelling ahead of him.  
There were running footsteps. The wet sound continued and four more shots went off with a shout of pain. The tarp was thrown back abruptly.  
“ZEKE,” a woman screamed in panic. It was the free settler woman.  
‘Probably the man’s wife.’  
Riddick was crouched across the pit from her. She looked up, agape, from the blood in the sand. Her breathing was labored and her chest rose up and down quickly. Riddick rose with his shiv still drawn - blade clean - he looked at her and spun around.  
Breaking into a run, he wove between the sandstone spires. The Credian was gone, but that was a concern for later.  
‘Need to get lost before someone gets trigger happy for a murder I didn’t commit.’  
There were quick footsteps behind him and Riddick glanced back quickly. The free settler had given chase. He was almost out of the spires when a baton struck out at his boots. Riddick fell forward into the sand but caught himself and tried to get back up. A booted foot caught him in the ribs as he tried to roll over.  
‘Fuckin’ Johns,’ Riddick knew it would hurt like a bitch later, but his adrenaline was coursing through him. He needed to get away.  
Johns loomed over him and Riddick grabbed for the small pistol at his waist. Johns caught his searching hand, pushed it away and ripped at the torch goggles to protect his eyes. The baton hit his head and pain blossomed over his skull and down his neck. The violet-cast world stung his eyes and Riddick squinted at the merc.  
“Piece of shit!” Riddick dodged another blow from Johns. The free settler appeared over Johns’ shoulder.  
“What did you do to Zeke,” the woman demanded. Riddick could see her sneer through the overexposure. The butt of a blaster hit him on the bridge of his nose and Riddick grabbed at his eyes in response.  
‘That one hurt.’  
“What did you do to him?” The woman was screaming.  
Someone exclaimed, “Shazza!”  
The blonde woman from the graveyard appeared and had turned to wrap her arms around the frantic woman. The woman was trying to drag the free settler away from him.  
“Just kill him. Just somebody goddamn kill him before he--” the woman’s voice cut off abruptly when he took her foot to his head and he was knocked unconscious. 

JAY

Jay regained consciousness chained to a pillar with her arms behind her back. She cracked her eyes open and winced. The base of her skull ached horribly where she had taken the butt of Johns’ big gauge. The last thing she could remember was the gruesome sound of tearing flesh, a man’s cry of pain, and blaster shots echoing between the stone spires. Jay had been distracted by the noise and the tinny scent of blood that had permeated the air, so she hadn’t noticed approaching footsteps until it was too late. Until she had been on the receiving end of whack to the head. Jay groaned softly and shifted on the discarded container she had been locked up to.  
‘At least they bothered to give me a chair this time.’  
She was on a ship, just the wrong one. Her memory flashed back to the skiff at the compound; Jay’s body twitched with the need to move. Cast in shadow, she roved her gaze around the room and noticed on her legs and ankles were unchained.  
‘Wrong move, Johns.’  
Angled toward the entrance to the room, Jay had an advantageous view of where she was being held… and of the man bound a few paces from her.  
‘Back where we started, I guess,’ she thought as her eyes slid over his powerful figure. He was already awake and watching her with the most captivating silver eyes she had ever seen. The shine job suited him; she equated it to looking into pure moonlight. Neither of the two convicts withdrew their gaze until a reverberating “BANG” sounded through the ship.  
Jay’s ear twitched as someone tramped across the metal floor towards them. Their steps were careless and noisy. Relaxing her body against the pillar, Jay closed her eyes until she watched the room with only a sliver open. The pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her gaze swept over Jay and, presuming she still passed out, she turned her attention to Riddick whose gaze was now focused on his lap.  
She stopped at the entrance and leaned her arm against an angled support pole, “So, where's the body?” The woman was posturing. Her back was up and she wanted to look unafraid in front of the big, badass criminal.  
‘Show no fear, but this poor lady is shaking in her flight boots,’ Jay thought with a crooked smirk playing at her lips. Riddick gave no reply. Instead, he continued to stare downwards with his face in the shadow.  
“Well, do you want to tell me about the sounds,” the woman asked rather than demanded this time.  
She pushed, “Look, you told Johns you heard something.” The silence strained the room with silence. Apparently, Johns had come to pay them a visit sometime when she was still unconscious. Curiosity perked its head up, and Jay wondered what she had missed.  
The woman’s lips smacked in impatience. “That's fine. You don't want to talk to me, that's your choice,” she paused and turned to walk away. “But, just so you know…there's a debate right now as to whether we should just leave you here to die.” The woman’s voice lifted in pitch as she became increasingly frustrated at the convict’s silence, and she spun around to stomp away.  
“You mean the whispers,” Riddick ground out in a low baritone voice. It was the first time Jay had heard him speak and it took her aback. The woman, who had begun to walk away, stopped and stepped back into their corner of the ship  
“What whispers,” the woman asked softly.  
“The ones telling me to go for the sweet spot just to the left of the spine. Fourth lumbar down. The abdominal aorta. It's a metallic taste, human blood. Copperish. If you cut it with peppermint schnapps, that goes--”  
The woman sounded aggravated. “Do you want to shock me with the truth now,” she asked sarcastically. There was a note to the way she asked that gave away that she was still hoping for a legitimate answer.  
“All you people are so scared of me. The girl, too,” Riddick replied. Jay cocked her eyebrow in the shadows. She hadn’t expected him to include her in this interrogation.  
“Most days,” he continued, “I’d take that as a compliment, but it ain't me you got to worry about now.”  
The woman asked immediately after he finished his explanation, “Show me your eyes, Riddick.”  
“You'd have to come a lot closer for that,” he replied with a grinning tone. The woman had asked in an assertive attempt to take control of the situation, but she couldn’t back down now and have Riddick call her bluff. She shuffled her feet closer edging her body nearer to Riddick so she could peer at his darkened face.  
“Closer,” Riddick dared. The woman shuffled closer, her eyes darting back and forth, she wiped her sweaty palms across her pants in a nervous action.  
‘Poor thing was in too deep.’  
The woman walked until she was only a pace away from Riddick before he sprung forward violently. Leaning against his restraints, his arms drew up above his head in a display of aggression. His arms were appropriately proportioned to the rest of his stature they were muscle-bound and flexed. Riddick had burst his body forward until a stream a light flitted across his face. His eyes were even more beautiful illuminated by the shallow light. Purples and metallic grays mixed with the milky white of the eyeshine. He was a magnificent creature, and Jay couldn’t help but notice.  
The woman’s eyes had blown wide and she had jumped a little, but she had not screamed but she was gasping and gaping at the air. Jay had to give her credit for not fleeing like a startled animal. There was a movement to Jay’s left. Something or someone had moved quietly enough that Jay hadn’t caught the sound over Riddick’s outburst until the ladder creaked under their feet.  
“Where the hell can I get eyes like that?” Jay’s eyes darted to the voice over her shoulder. Young, ambiguous, and confident. A child. Prepubescent boy or an adolescent girl maybe; Jay couldn’t decide. Jay heard their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. The new arrival seemed to be a surprise to the woman, but Riddick looked unfazed.  
Riddick was still standing when he responded, “Gotta kill a few people.”  
“Okay. I can do it,” the small figure approached and Jay’s nose caught their scent. Cropped hair, dirty face, and baggy clothes. The kid was dressed like a street rat and her eyes told her the kid was a boy but her nose knew better. The kid was filthy but the specific scent of a menstruating woman hid under the layers of sweat and dust.  
‘I know your secret, kid,’ Jay thought.  
Riddick spoke, “Then you gotta get sent to a slam where they say you'll never see daylight again.” His face was still in the light, but the kid seemed unalarmed and completely unfazed by the possibility of danger.  
“You dig up a doctor and you pay him 20 menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs,” he went on. The kid hadn't seemed to notice Jay in the shadow of the pillar and paused hazardously close.  
“So you can see who's sneaking up on you in the dark?” The kid finished Riddick’s sentence mirthfully.  
“Exactly,” Riddick replied with a toothy smile.  
“Leave!” The woman screeched, but she softened her tone before asking again, “Leave”.  
The kid looked betrayed at the woman’s raised voice before, she raced up the ladder steps.  
“Cute kid,” Riddick rasped. The woman flashed him an irate expression.  
Riddick’s voice dropped into a more serious tone, “Did I kill a few people? Sure. Did I kill Zeke? No.” He tilted his head at her, “You got the wrong killer.”  
“He's not in the hole. We looked,” the woman replied. The irritation in her voice was obvious.  
“Look deeper”. With that, the woman turned and stomped away.  
‘Don’t like her,’ Jay deliberated and watched the woman’s blonde head as she left. ‘She has a bit of a spine, but something in her is missing. Maybe it’s a heart or maybe a conscience. Most do-right civilians were lacking in something important.’  
“I think the coast is clear. You can open your eyes,” Riddick grumbled out in his low voice. Jay’s head turned to look at him. He had sat down again and he was studying her with those liquid eyes of his.  
“You watching me, big guy? I’m flattered,” Jay rasped in response. Her throat was croaky from thirst and unuse. He smiled at her and his eyes seemed to lighten at her comment.  
“You think I did it, dontcha,” Riddick asked her daring her to accuse him of whatever it was the woman and Johns seemed to think he had done. The question piqued her interest. Jay couldn’t decide whether he genuinely wanted an answer or if this more of his power play.  
“No,” Jay considered her words carefully. She honestly didn’t think he had done the deed, unless he had found the time to slit someone’s throat while she was knocked out.  
She continued with a playful grin and leaned forward in her seat. Her golden gaze meeting his she told him, “I can smell a lie when it’s spoken.” Another truth, she really could smell the physical response when someone lied. She could hear the minute changes in a person's heartbeat or breathing changes. She could smell the acrid perspiration that people tended to sweat when they lied. Jay was also a master of expressions and body language.  
“Interesting,” Riddick murmured. Her answer seemed to surprise him and he relaxed into his restraints.  
“What do you say we get outta here, catch a skiff, and find us somewhere private,” Riddick’s voice took on a seductive inflection. He tilted his head and rolled his neck, “I have a feeling we have a lot of the same… interests.” Jay couldn’t help the throaty laugh that spilled from her. Riddick’s grin grew wider.  
“Sounds… cozy. I’ll give it some thought and get back to you when we get ourselves outta these chains,” Jay drawled and readjusted herself on the container. Riddick seemed to accept this answer. She shifted her weight around while precariously as she was stuck in a sitting position. Her ass was going numb.  
There was a comfortable paused before Jay asked curiously, “You know what’s in the hole?”  
“Nahhh,” Riddick rumbled. A faint cry sounded outside the wreckage, “But I think we’re gonna find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving all this dialogue it makes the scenes pass faster and it's so much more fun to write. I've been using script-o-rama for dialogue quotations from the movie to make it more accurate, although I do understand that some cuts of Pitch Black have slight variations in what is said and by who.  
> Anywayyyyys thank you all so much for reading, Happy New Year xoxo


	5. Enemies and Allies

FRY

Fry could still see Riddick’s unnerving eyes when she blinked. The spooky, milky gaze still lingered on her skin. He was so intimidating and severe. The animalistic tension he had exuded had been overpowering, and Fry’s heart still seemed to be rapid beating under her breast. Johns hadn’t believed Riddick’s word that he hadn’t killed Zeke and Carolyn wasn’t completely sold either, but she couldn’t take the risk and not see for herself. No one wanted to go through the hole to find Zeke. Imam had secured a stretchy cord around her waist, scavenged from the crash site, and was before sending forward with a less-than-confident “good luck”.  
Johns had been apprehensive about listening to the convict. Ready to believe he had done it.  
“Let me tell you what I think happened,” Johns had said.  
“I think he went off on the guy and buried him in the hills somewhere, and now he’s got you believin’ there’s something else out there.”  
“Well let’s just be sure,” Fry had responded.  
“Look, murders aside, Riddick belongs in the asshole hall of fame. He loves a jaw-jack and he loves to make you feel afraid, because that’s all he has. You’re playing right into it,” Johns had pushed.  
“I don’t even know why I’m trying to explain this Johns. I mean, you’re a cop. For god’s sake, we’ve got to find his body,” she had said.  
“Hey! I’ll go,” the kid had piped up. Johns and Fry had turned to look at him.  
“Look, no one is going,” she reassured.  
“Stay here,” Johns said sternly. The kid shrugged and looked disappointed.  
“Look, being ballsy with your life doesn’t change what came before. It’s stupid.”  
“You think I’m trying to prove something,” Fry had spun around and asked. He was referencing what she had confided in him about. Her back had gone up.  
“Well, are you?” Johns had countered.  
Crouching at the entrance to the hole in the pit, Carolyn crawled over the blood-stained sand and into the darkness. There was a narrow tunnel that led into the main cavern. Above her, the land slanted upwards and made room for a cave a few feet taller than herself. It was dark, but there were holes in the roof that permitted streams of light to enter. Fry’s eyes were slowly adjusting but she couldn’t quite make out the fine details of the cavern. Walking until she was at the center of the space. Standing in a stream of light she looked up into the body of a spire.  
“They're hollow,” Fry conceded to herself in wonderment.  
A skittering noise sounded behind her. She turned to look but nothing was there. Peering through the dark, she saw a shape around the corner of the spire’s base. Fry adjusted her stance and pointed her small flashlight at the shape. It was a booted foot… only it was no longer attached to a leg. A man’s workboot about the same size that Zeke would have worn. Terror shot through Fry’s body. Something burst through the shadows and snatched the boot away. Fry dropped her light in surprised. An eerie call echoed through the darkness. Fry stood up in panic and backed into the beam of light. More sounds returned the call.  
‘SHIT, SHIT, SHIT,’ Fry thought panicky. She knew she had to get out of the cavern. She swung around to the entrance she had come in from, but there were dark bodies curled around the wall by the hole.  
‘I’m trapped,' she thought. She had crawled into an ambush. Fry pivoted around on the spot, frantically looking for an alternate route out. More bodies began crawling off the walls of the cavern where they had been camouflaged. All seeming to come to life at once, the creatures scurried past her in the shadows. There were tunnel entrances leading into the cavern all around her all dark and ominous. Fry glanced up into the body of the spire.  
‘There! She could climb out.’  
The spire was large enough she would fit almost all the way up. Fry grabbed at the safety line to give herself more line and scrambled up towards the surface, but the line was taunt she was at the end of it or something had a hold on it. Her feet kept slipping and she was grasping at the rocky side. The rough side of the spire scrapped her fingertips as she tried to find a hold. Her fingernails were starting to bleed on a couple of her fingers.  
“I'm in here,” Fry cried upwards. Her voice was choked with fear. There was tugging at her line as the creatures run past and bumped it.  
“I'm in here! I'm inside!”  
The cacophony beneath her rose and rose.  
“Please! Can you hear me,” desperation tugged at her words and she began to cry, her mouth forming into a sob. The rock of the spire crumbled in by her head and dust fell around her. Someone was bludgeoning the spire’s column to get to her. Hands scrabbled at the hole in the spire making it large enough to fit through.  
A man's voice demanded as hands entered the spire to pull her out, “Give me your goddamn hand!”  
Fry let go of her grip on the rocky structure and grabbed ahold. Tears were spilling from her eyes in relief.  
“I heard you, Fry.” The kid, Jack, reassured her, “I heard you first.” Hands were all over her, grabbing and helping her.  
“Come on,” Johns said. Jack, Imam, Johns, Paris, and Shazza were crowded around her. Everyone seemed to speak at once, demanding an explanation and reassuring her. Fry was numb, attempting to recover and catch her breath.  
“Fry, are you okay?”  
“What's down there? What is it?”  
“Did you find Zeke?”  
“You're all right.”  
“Are you okay?”  
Fry was on her hands and knees in the sand. Awareness of what had happened struck as the adrenaline coursing through her body eased. Everyone was standing around her waiting for her to catch her breath.  
She shouted, soundly angry at her own stupidity, “Fuck!”  
‘I shoulda listened to him,’ she thought with regret. She had been very close to becoming something's meal.  
“That was so fucking stupid! I don't know what the fuck is in there...but whatever it is, it got Zeke, and it nearly got me--” Fry was cut off by her own scream as the line attached to her waist yanked her back into the spire.  
“Get it off me! GET IT OFF ME!” Fry screeched with terror as Imam and Johns wrestled with the cord before severing the taunt line. She tried to brace herself. The cord snapped back and disappeared down the spire and into the darkness below as the creatures echoed and called to each other.  
“Watch it! Watch your head.”  
Fry sunk into the men holding her once they helped her down from the hole in the spire. Relief spread through her body and she was suddenly heavy with relief and apprehension.

... 

RIDDICK

“Finally found something worse than me?” Riddick addressed Johns as he entered the room. The criminals were still strung up among the broken beams of the crashed ship. He smiled at the merc with knowing. He had heard the blonde woman screams of terror. Banging the bonds around and laughing at the foolish decision to go looking for the dead man’s body. The Credian woman had watched him curiously through nearly closed eyes. She had appeared to be trying to sleep, but his amused noise seemed to rouse her. She had been unconscious for a while before coming to.  
‘Mild concussion, maybe. Head had to hurt like a bitch. But pain builds character,’ he had always liked to think that.  
“Come to join us, Johns? It’s social hour,” the Credian woman spoke with a lazy grin and leaned forward in greeting. She was trying to hide the pain she must be in. Johns shot her a glare.  
“So here's the deal,” Johns began, pausing a safe distance away from the chained convicts.  
He continued with his hands on his hips, “the two of you work without chains, without bit and without shivs.” Johns looked pointedly at the woman as he went on.  
“You do what I say when I say it. No funny business,” the woman rose a single eyebrow at his directed comment. Rage shot through him.  
‘Fuck expects us to work for him, do his dirty work, and then return to our chains like dogs. Fuck that,’ Riddick thought.  
“For what? The honor of going back to some asshole of a cell? Fuck you,” Riddick replied with as much exasperation as he could muster. The Credian mumbled in agreement.  
“The truth is…” Johns paused wearily and shook his head. He spoke like he was letting them in on a secret, but he looked directly at Riddick. “I'm tired of chasing you.” The woman let out a throaty laugh.  
‘Hot,’ Riddick thought. His mind flashed back to proposition with earnest interest.  
“‘I’m tired of chasing you,’” the woman mocked Johns’ twang and leaned to strain against the bonds.  
“And what about me, pretty boy? You gonna chain me to your belt when you’re done with me? I’m not gonna be your bitch for a day and your prisoner the next!” The woman spat at him, “eat rocks, you fuck.” Her voice had thickened and Riddick heard the not-unfamiliar lilting hint of an accent.  
‘Very interesting,’ he thought.  
“C’mon, Jay. I wouldn’t do you dirty like that,” Johns spoke with his smarmy grin.  
‘Jay’, Riddick thought, ‘So the woman has a name.’  
Before Jay could cut Johns a scathing remark, Riddick pressed, “Are you saying you'd cut me loose?” Johns paused briefly before replying.  
“I'm thinking you could have died in the crash,” he said. The air became tense at the possibility of freedom.  
“Jay, too. Disappear on some backwater planet, cut your hair or grow some,” Johns looked plainly at Riddick. “I don’t care. Do whatever I say and I’ll cut you two loose.”  
“My recommendation: Do me,” Riddick didn’t hesitate, he knew this was just another one of Johns ploys. “Don't take the chance that I'll get shiv-happy on your wannabe ass. Ghost me, motherfucker, that's what I would do to you.”  
Johns pulled his big gauge blaster and pointed it at Riddick. He heard Jay’s breath catch in her throat, thinking Johns was going to take his advice and stiff him. The blaster was at point-blank range and no one could survive that in just muscle shirt. The pump went back and the gun went off. It was achingly loud in Riddick’s ears especially with the kicking headache he had. Riddick had turned his head and brace himself for a gunshot to the chest. Slowly, he turned his head back to center. Bringing his arms down to his sides and his restraints clanging against the stockade. He stared at Johns as the merc began to speak.  
“I want you to remember this moment,” he said arrogantly with a pointed finger, “The way it could have gone and didn't.”  
Johns reached to his belt and grabbed Riddick’s goggles.  
“Here,” Johns offered.  
Appearing as calm as possible, Riddick leashed his fury. Reaching for his goggles, Riddick grabbed the large blaster from the merc’s hands and pointed the dangerous end at his face.  
“Take it easy,” Johns murmured softly. Riddick knew the consequences that would come with ghosting the merc. He was outnumbered on an unknown rock, but the temptation was there. Johns arms raised above his head; he was scared. Riddick hesitated. He wanted Johns dead, but this was not how he should go out.  
‘Besides,’ Riddick thought in spite, ‘the man is a roach: a fuckin pest and hard to get rid of completely.’ Johns continued to stand still.  
“Fuck you!” Riddick shouted angrily at the merc. Even with the shackling cuffs around his wrists, Riddick was the most dangerous person in the room at the moment.  
“Do we have a deal?” Johns was still shaken but seemed to be regaining some sense of composure. Riddick looked down the barrel at the man. He let out a soft sigh and pressed his lips together  
“I want you to remember this moment,” Riddick mimicked the merc. He threw down the gun, grabbed the goggles Johns had still clutched in his hand, and stalked away.

…

JAY

Riddick had stomped off, seeping fury. Jay could feel it.  
She watched his retreating bald head before turning to the devil in the room. Johns stood for a few seconds regaining his composure. His arms were on his hips when he glanced up to look at Jay. Poised, her muscles tensed. She was anxious for him to unlock her bonds. Jay cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him. Glossy blue eyes peered at her and she met his gaze. Johns hesitated.  
‘What are you waiting for, Johns,' she thought. Jay’s look unnerved him. He was prepared for her to do something reckless. Johns picked up the gun Riddick had tossed aside.  
‘Not that stupid,’ she exasperated internally. 'I won’t shoot you… right now.'  
Keys jangled at his belt. Jay was almost surprised when he reached out with the keys and not the gun. Her hands were secured behind her back around the pillar.  
“No funny business,” he said. “Right?” She grinned.  
Johns leaned in close to reach around and unlock her. His hand brushed unnecessarily at her breast. Teeth bared, she snarled under her breath. He should have known better than to pull something like that, she could have bitten him, leaning so close.  
With canines were longer and sharper than that of regular human teeth, a mouthful with her teeth would hurt like a sonofabitch. They were the byproduct of breeding only the strongest Credians. Only the most durable reached sexual maturity. That meant only the largest, fastest, and fiercest had children. The Company wanted the strongest of the stock doing their work. Jay exhibited most of the tell-tale attributes of the ‘prized Credian’. Despite being small, she was efficient, she picked things up quickly, and she was strong. It had allowed her to survive longer than most.  
A wave of sorrow washed over Jay, thinking of bright, golden eyes that had looked so much like her own. Jay mentally shook herself and pushed down the thought. Johns pulled on her cuffs and fit the electronic key bit into the hole. It was a locking she couldn’t just pick with a stray piece of wire. She gave Johns credit for learning from that mistake quickly after the first time he’d put her in simple cuffs.  
At the “snick” of the locking mechanism disengaging Jay burst forward into Johns’ bent body. Startled, he shuffled back. Jay matched each step back with a foot forward. She moved quickly, fluidly, like the animal she was. Brow set, she held his eye until she eased him with a casual smile.  
“Thanks, Johns. Took you long enough,” Jay rasped. Shaking the cuff off her wrist where it had stayed loosely in place, Jay bound off in the direction Riddick had gone.

... 

The suns were still shining brilliantly despite the passing of hours.  
‘The day cycles must be long on this planet,’ Jay shielded her eyes with a hand until they adjusted to the light. She stepped out onto the rocky sand and reoriented herself. The surviving party was scrambling around like insects in the dust. There were footsteps behind Jay as Johns approached.  
“Goin’ somewhere, Johns?” Jay asked him without turning her head.  
“Compound. Out past the boneyard. Why don’t you go help with the heavy lifting; make yourself useful.”  
“I know where it is,” she said and sauntered off towards the remains of the main cabin.  
The shade inside the crash ship was a reprieve from the splintering brightness outside. Thirst pricked at her throat. There was speaking at a set of metal stairs. She followed the sound of the voices and climbed the rickety steps. They creaked with her weight.  
At the top step, the conversation drew up short, “-- let them free. I guess we’ll see--” Jay kept her face blank. It was obvious she and Riddick had been the topic of conversation. The Imam and the blonde woman, Fry, froze at the sight of Jay.  
‘How awkward,’ Jay thought. The whispers and the side-eye were something Jay was familiar with, and this was no different. Jay had a reputation and she was a minority to boot.  
“Johns sent you to help?” Fry asked hands on hips.  
“Yeah. I’m here as acting steer,” Jay responded neutrally.  
The blonde woman grimaced and turned to the wall behind her. They were in the energy room. The power nodes that had run the ship were plugged into the wall compartment. The ship had been a transport vehicle, used to tow cargo and passenger containers through the ‘verse. A job like that called for a lot of power, a lot of nodes. And there were many. The woman disengaged and released one node from its slot.  
The Imam asked “Just one?”  
“For now,” Fry responded.  
‘They must have found the skiff.’  
The node was bulky and heavy. Imam and Fry fumbled to get a good handle on the awkwardly shaped power node. Jay was not unfamiliar with the equipment. She used to haul around parts and equipment in the mines of her home planet.  
“Here,” Jay said and moved forward to take the node.  
“Be--” Jay swung the node up and onto the curve of her shoulder with ease. “...careful,” Fry finished her sentence. Her expression of surprise came as an amusement to Jay. Jay grinned and turned before treading down the metal steps. Using one hand to steady it, she guided herself down with grace. She made the act look easy. The node was a steady weight where Jay had balanced it on her shoulder. The others followed.  
Johns had greeted Jay at a sled parked at the entrance of the navigation bay. He gave her a suspicious eye before reaching to take the node from her. She looked at him and then the power node and then the begotten sled.  
“Careful. She’s heavy,” Jay rasped. Johns shot her an unimpressed look, grabbing the power node from her shoulder.  
“We’re carrying the node? All the way to the compound” Jay questioned with a raised brow.  
“Somebody is. Just not you. Don’t want your sly Credian fingers mucking with it on the way,” Jay barked a laugh at his comment. She should be insulted, but the absurdity that she’d mess with the only thing standing between her and freedom caught her off guard. She shook her head.  
“Can never be too careful, huh, Johns?”  
Jay strolled off shaking her head.

… 

The bizarre caravan marched under the blazing suns. Johns, the kid, and the free settler woman lead the group, set the pace. Johns had handed the power node off to the Imam and his acolytes. Three of them managed to carry the load, chattering to each other in arabic.  
‘Poor kids,’ Jay thought at them having to carry the node because of Johns’ paranoia.  
Jay brought up the ass of the group, just behind Riddick, who was tugging the sled along in the sand. Jay listened to the inconsistent shuffle of footsteps in the sand and caught the conversation ahead of her.  
The dark-haired free settler asked, “So, you click your fingers and he's one of us now?”  
“I didn't say that,’ Johns responded.  
“What about the Credian?”  
“Don’t underestimate her. She can steal the food from your mouth if you’re not careful,” Jay smiled slightly at Johns’ answer. He wasn’t wrong.  
“Cool,” the young girl in boys clothes said.  
“At least this way I don't have to worry about y’all, uh, falling asleep and not waking up,” Johns continued.  
“So, can I talk to them now?” The kid asked with barely contained eagerness.  
“No,” both Johns and the free settler said in tandem.  
A breeze picked up and Jay lost interest in the conversation as the discussion dwindled into the mechanics of the skiff.  
Ahead of Jay, Riddick seemed to slow his pace, he had been tasked to mule the sled full of tools and parts from the ship. Imam, Fry, and a little man trailed in front of him. A bottle slipped from the slender man’s make-shift satchel.  
“Blast!” The man had felt it slip from his hold. He turned around and ran to pick it up. Unfortunately for him, Riddick got to it first. They both knelt to get the bottle at the same time. Eye to eye in the sand, the little man appeared to shake in his skin. Jay caught up and stopped beside Riddick.  
The little man shook as he spoke, “Paris P. Ogilvie. Antiquities dealer, entrepreneur.” He presented his hand to the convict is a business-like fashion. He reeked of fear and alcohol.  
‘What a nervous little man,’ Jay thought.  
Without hesitation, Riddick extended his hand in return.  
“Richard B. Riddick,” he began. “Escaped convict, murderer.”  
There was a grin tugging at the convict’s mouth. He seemed amused at the nervous man’s gall to shake his hand. The two men turned to look at Jay as she stepped forward and caught Paris’s hand in greeting.  
“Jay. Doe,” she pumped the little man’s hand with a blinding smile. “Murderer. Thief Extraordinaire,” she let go of Paris’ hand. He stood above her by several inches and was about the same height as Riddick, but Jay overshadowed him in balls. Paris licked at his lips nervously and glanced at the receding group. Riddick unscrewed the bottle of liquor with a pop.  
“That's a good Shiraz. It's a lovely drop,” Paris stumbled over his words. Riddick gulped down the wine. Jay watched the string column of Riddick’s neck as he swallowed. He stopped and passed the remaining bottle to Jay.  
“It-it's very expensive. B-by all means, please,” he stuttered out. She accepted the bottle and drank greedily until nothing was left. “Help yourself.”  
“Thanks,” Jay said and handed him the empty bottle. “I was parched.”  
The nervous man gulped noticeably in fear. He accepted the bottle before scurrying off to rejoin the Imam and Fry.  
“Jay Doe, huh? I don’t suppose Jay is short for Jane is it,” Riddick asked in the same neutral tone he seemed to discuss everything in. They started walking again and Jay looked at his goggled eyes. She laughed sardonically.  
Rolling up the sleeve of her thin shirt, she revealed the nine-digit identification tattoo on her forearm. Just below her elbow, she had had it for as long as she could remember.  
“They don’t give slaves names, Riddick,” she flashed him her teeth in what she hoped was a grin.  
They continued their steady pace without speaking. There was nothing but the breeze, the suns, and Riddick’s relentless trudging through the sand. They had fallen back from the rest of the group.  
“This is nice,” Riddick spoke, breaking their silence after a few minutes.  
“What is?”  
“You not being on my ass for a change,” he joked with a chuckle. She had figured he had known she’d railed him after the crash.  
Jay answered with a genuine smile before she said, “well, big guy, why don’t you let me walk beside you instead.”  
Riddick seemed to contemplate the offer for several long moments. Understanding it to be more than what it sounded like on the surface.  
“You got my six, I got yours? That kinda thing?”  
“Yeah,” Jay turned her head to look at him, squinting into the suns. “If you can trust a Credian fugitive, that is.” Riddick chuckled at the remark and then quieted in thought.  
‘He’s handsome when he laughs,’ Jay thought with an upturn to her lips.  
“Why don’t we give it a trial period,” Riddick proposed. “If you don’t try to put a shiv in my spine by the time we jump rock, I’ll consider it.”  
Jay procured a hand but continued walking, “you have a deal, Mr. Riddick.”  
He laughed, “Mr. Riddick. I like the way you say it.”  
He shook her hand, “Deal.”

…

FRY

The group had managed to make it to the compound without any casualties, excluding a bottle of Shiraz and some dignity. Imam and his acolytes dispersed to get the water filtration pump running as the entrance of the complex. Sitting around the skiff, the remaining seven lingered to inspect the ship and take a break.  
“I mean, normally I can appreciate antiques, but this is something else,” Paris spoke coming to the lowered skiff door.  
“It’ll work,” Johns shot back.  
“It’s nothing we can’t repair so long as the electrical adapts,” Fry said. Hope tinged her voice.  
‘Better work or I don’t know what we’ll do,’ she thought.  
“Well, it’s not a star-jumper,” Shazza stated.  
“Doesn’t need to be. Take a two-seater like this back up to the Sol-track shipping lanes. Stick out our thumb, bound to get picked up,” Riddick stood off to the side with his hands behind his back at attention. The pose was very military-like. The Credian woman, Jay, stood at the outer wall of a building inspecting the company brand stamp on the metal siding.  
“Ain’t that right, captain?”  
Johns quirked his brow at Riddick’s comment. Fry shot him a silencing glance.  
“Can I get a little help here?” Fry asked from where she crouched. They needed to get the node into the skiff so they could run systems works and make sure the cells and ship were compatible.  
She and the kid moved to bring the node up.  
“I got it. Come on,” Paris offered and dragged the node into the ship. Riddick waltzed forward towards the entrance of the ship.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Johns put up a hand to bar Riddick from entering. He jabbed his chin towards the outlying buildings behind the skiff.  
“Do me a favor,” he said. “Check these containers out and, uh, see what we can patch these wings up with.” Riddick stared at him through the black goggles covering his eyes. The tension was palpable. He must have meandered off because Johns joined Shazza and Fry inside the ship. He watched as they fiddled and twisted wires to connect the nodes to the power outlets in the floor. Fry made the last connection and the skiff whirred to life.  
“And we are getting there,” she said triumphantly. She stood and turned to the pilot’s dash. She twitched and engaged the computer to make sure the major mechanisms to run systems check were working.  
“We've got enough power for a sys-check but we'll still need more cells,” she glanced through the dash window thinking.  
Johns asked, “How many are we talking about?”  
“Um. Let's see, we got a 90 gig draw. The other ship takes 20 gig cells, so that'd be five,” Fry exclaimed. “Five total to launch.”  
“Thirty-five kilos each? Fuck,” Johns murmured in thought.  
“Well, that's pretty heavy,” Shazza said. She paused, considering their options.  
“You know that old sand cat out there? I might be able to get it going,” Shazza offered.  
“Do it if you can,” Johns conceded. “Have Jay give you a hand, but if she gives you trouble--” he drew up short looking out the window.  
“Where'd Riddick go?”

…

RIDDICK

Johns, the prick, had sent Riddick off to search through the junk for something to repair the wings. The ship needed patchwork from the weathering, but he hadn't found anything in the outlying containers. He had ambled off instead. His first tour of the complex had been brief. He had been trying to shake Jay at the time.  
A thick coat of dust covered most of the belongings inside the buildings. Jackets still hung on the coat racks, children’s toys were scattered in the sand. It was as if everyone had just puffed out of existence. Riddick meandered towards the tall, domed building on the outskirts of the complex. Tarps fluttered in the breeze. The suns were relentless light was hot and sweat beaded on his brow.  
Walking between buildings and crates, he entered the clearing in front of the doors of the building. Sand had blown in and accumulated in the nooks and doorframe. Movement caught the corner of his eye. Two children moved among the tarps on top of the crates. There were objects buried in the sand. Kneeling, he dusted the sand off of a gauged device and a pair of glasses. Not the normal kind of thing a person lost in the sand. Standing, he observed the building and glanced through the window. There was a labeling inscription above the door, peaking from the edge of the tarp. Pulling it to to the side, the inscription read ‘CORING ROOM’. He shook at the doors but they wouldn’t give. The handle was wrapped in chains. Steps and rustling settled above him on the roof.  
Johns entered the clearing and called to Riddick, tapping at his thigh. Johns mimicked summoning a dog. “You're missing the party. Come on, boy.”  
Riddick didn’t acknowledge the summons and turned back to the tarped roof. He reached forward and nabbed the tarp. One of the kids, the boy that smelled like a girl, was behind the draped equipment attempting to sneak up on him.  
“‘Missing the party. Come on,’” Riddick said in an absurd imitation of Johns twanging accent.  
The kid looked disappointed and their shoulders sank at their discovery. Riddick sauntered off.  
“Oh, man,” the kid muttered.  
A whirring began behind him. The second child was nowhere in sight.

… 

“All praises be Allah, for his many blessings to us,” the Imam fluttered around chorusing as he poured water into glasses. They must have been the least dusty of the bunch. Everyone but Jay and the smallest of the Imam’s acolytes seemed to be gathered in what must have been a dining hall.  
The kid wandered in through the outer door with his freshly sheared hair. Goggles were placed over his eyes in a very similar fashion to Riddick 's. He grinned into his glass of water. The other survivors exchanged glances of concern and annoyance at his fascination with the convict.  
The kid removed his goggles and grabbed a water. He noticed the glances and asked, “What?”  
“It's the winner of the look-alike contest,” the cowardly man said in humour.  
Jay entered through the back. She crossed the room to lean against the wall by Riddick, grabbing a glass of water on the way. Riddick drank up the sight her easy gait and the gentle sway of her hips. Jay was an attractive woman and Riddick liked the way she moved: graceful and dangerous. She glanced between the kid and Riddick before giving him an amused side grin.  
“Where were you?” Johns had watched her arrive.  
“She was with me,” the free settler Shazza shot. “Helping me fix the sandcat. We' almost got her working.”  
Riddick glanced at her in curiosity and Johns looked perturbed. She shrugged and sipped her water.  
“Who were these people, anyway? Miners?” Paris was moving around the room investigating the various bits left behind from the previous occupants.  
“Looks like geologists. An advance team moves from rock to rock,” Shazza replied holding up a clamped piece of rock.  
“Nice of them to leave so much stuff here,” Fry joined the conversation. “Why did they leave their ship?” Tension hung in the air. Everyone wanted to know who the people were and why they had disappeared. Imam stood by the window looking out into the complex. The little one still hadn’t arrived; he stepped out.  
“It's not a ship. It's a skiff, and it's disposable,” Johns said from where he lounged.  
“It's more like an emergency life raft, right?” Paris provided.  
“Yeah. They probably had a big drop ship take them off planet,” Shazza suggested.  
“These people didn't leave. Come on. Whoever got Zeke got them. They're all dead,” Riddick spoke. Paris gulped and Shazza turned her head in annoyance. “You don't really think they left with their clothes on hooks, photos on the shelves?” Riddick placed the goggles he had removed back on his head, his tone bordered on patronizing.  
“Maybe they had weight limits. You don’t know,” Shazza said with a frustrated tone.  
“I know you don't prep your emergency ship unless there's a fuckin’ emergency,” he continued. He had a point.  
“He's fuckin' right,” the kid piped in.  
“Watch your mouth,” Johns shot at the boy.  
“He's just saying what we're all thinking.” Fry got up from where she had been sitting, “So what happened? Where are they?”  
Imam burst into the room, “Has anyone seen the little one? Ali?”  
Jay leaned forward and pushed herself from the wall her arms were crossed over her bust. Riddick noticed. “Did you hear that,” Jay said looking up at Riddick. He turned back to the survivors and asked, “Has anyone checked the coring room?”  
Jay’s head swung towards the door closest to the coring room. Her ears had heard something Riddick’s or the others had not. She burst forward towards the door as a scream cut through the distance.


	6. People are Temporary but Death is Forever

JAY

Everyone scrambled over each other to get out of the room. Imam ran faster than Jay had thought he could. A scream came once again and then… nothing. She raced through the compound, weaving between containers in the direction of the coring room. Each of her steps kicked up sand in her wake. Imam and Johns were the first to reach the heavy metal doors. Jay and Imam yanked at the chain holding the door shut, but it didn’t give.

“Move back,” Johns said. He waited long enough for Jay to move aside before swinging his barreled blaster at the chain and pulling the trigger. ‘ _BOOM, BOOM, BOOM’_ the shots echoed loudly and the metal sparked. She flinched back at the volume of the blast going off so close to her sensitive ears, but Jay placed a powerful kick at the busted handle and doors swung open. Johns led the way with his gun pointed and Imam rushed forward through the open doors.

“Ali!” Imam whispered loudly into the room.

“Slowly,” Johns called at him. Jay stood in the threshold and stared into the shadowy coring room. The ceiling was high and peaked, and the walls were covered in metal plates. There were doors on the right wall, workbenches and abandoned equipment against the back, and a cage in the center of the room. Jay stepped forward lightly and her nostrils flared scenting the air. The room smelt like death and blood. The fetid, heavy air hit her stomach like a suckerpunch. Jay knew what they were going to find and it was nothing good.

Imam was cautiously rounding the center cage of the room. There was a skylight above them that shone down and illuminated the majority of the room. Long metal beams exposed over workbenches and abandoned equipment. Johns and Fry edged farther into the room. Johns had his big gauge loaded and scanning the room for any movement and Fry blocked the others from running forward.

“Jack, wait,” Fry called as the kid stepped forward to help Imam look. Jack shot her an irritated look. Jay felt sympathy for the girl, she just wanted to help. Walking behind Jack, Jay grabbed her shoulder.

“C’mon. Stand with me, kid,” Jay whispered. The girl perked up at Jay’s presence. Looking down onto the half-grin she had caused, Jay felt a little bubble of  _ something _ tighten in her chest.

“Ali! Ali!” The Imam called into the shadows, “Ali.”

There was no reply to the Imam’s call. He continued around the cage searching and gasped as his robes caught on the broken chain of the cage. Jack’s shoulders jumped at the man’s grasp. She had balls, but she was still just a kid. The others crowded at Jay’s back and her hand stayed its place on Jack’s shoulder. Something had ripped into, or out of, the cage, and the panels of the cage were jagged and bent back.

Jay’s ears twitched behind her hair. A low swooshing sounded to the right and was followed by a soft tapping. Jay’s head swung in its direction. The doors seemed to rattle and tap ever so slightly. 

“Ali?” He called approaching the door. 

“Imam…”. Jay drawled, but he did not heed her warning. Jay sensed Riddick from behind. She felt the shadow his body cast over her skin as he blocked out the light. There was a soft scratching, skittering noise. Jay’s ears pricked again.

“Imam--” she whispered but was cut off.

“Ali?” he called again, interrupting Jay’s warning. Grabbing a hold of the moving door handle, he tugged it open and a swarm of…  _ somethings _ flew out. They sped past Imam, almost encompassing him. Jay as he threw himself to the ground. She hoped he wasn’t dead. The swarm circled around the ceiling looking for an escape before diving down and shooting towards the door. Riddick’s hand flew past Jay’s face and he held the door against them. Riddick nudged the door open as the creatures reached a beam of light and cried a horrible, ear-splitting screech. 

‘ _ They didn’t like that _ ,’ Jayy flinched at the noise. The creatures spiraled away from the sunlight and circled around once more before shooting down through the ripped hole in the cage. There was silence once again. It seemed as though no one dared to even breathe.

“Imam?” Johns called out into the silence. He walked farther into the coring room with his gun. The Imam picked himself up from where he had fallen on hands and knees he crawled closer towards the darkened doorway.

“Imam?” Johns called out into the silence. He walked farther into the coring room with his gun. The Imam picked himself up from where he had fallen on hands and knees he crawled closer towards the darkened doorway.

“Imam?” Fry breathed. A body fell out of the closet and hit the ground with a sickening thud. There was an all-consuming gasp at the sight. Jay spun Jack so the kid wouldn’t have to see and held her against her chest by the back of the kid's shirt. The girl squirmed.

“Don’t!” Jay snapped in warning, “You don’t want to see.” Death was not unfamiliar to her, but the little boy's face was gruesomely savaged. Bloody, exposed flesh, tissue pulled tightly over bone. His eyes, lips, and skin were gone. His fingers and neck had also been eaten away. It was sickening and Jay wanted to save the kid from the sight.

Paris stood at the sight, pale and quivering. He looked like he was about to hurl. Jay placed her hand on the back of the kids neck and guided her away from the coring room.

“Go take Paris back, he looks like he’s gonna pansey out in the sand,” Jay said into Jack’s ear. Jack snickered and nodded at her but her eyes were solemn. She knew the weight of what had happened. A child was dead.

Imam let out a heart-wrenching cry and was crooning in Arabic over the child’s body. The other two acolytes were shooed away by Fry. They were crying. Jay’s heart ached for them, she knew that pain. She itched to go to him - to comfort - but she didn't know to. She was a stranger and it was not her place, so she battened down the ached that began under her breast and exhaled heavily. Riddick stood aside watching her and she glanced at his goggles eyes. She couldn’t see the shine of his eyes through the tinted glass lenses, but she imagined this broke through his tough skin too.

* * *

A tarp had been wrapped around the little body and hauled away so that Imam and the other two boys could perform the rites over his body. Jay had heard of such a thing before. The Chrislam faith had many funeral traditions and rites, but Jay imagined grief was grief. Paris and Jack had gone off to another building, Jack guiding the green-faced man through the compound.  Fry, Shazza, Johns, and Riddick stood around the cage. Riddick had jumped down through the hole to stand on the ledge below the metal grate. He removed his goggles, and, peering down, he whistled low.

“Found the old occupants,” he ground out. His voice held the same gravelly neutrality as though he was commenting on the weather.

Jay crouched over where he stood and looked down into the darkness. Her eyes probably couldn’t see as well as his, but her night vision wasn’t bad. There were portions of skeletons along the side of the hole. Discarded spines and arms littered the little ledges. Fifty paces down lay a pile of partial skeletons. Jay counted over a dozen skulls.

“Looks like we were late to the buffet,” Jay said flatly. Riddick looked over his shoulder at her with a grin.

_ ‘At least he thinks I’m funny,’  _ Jay thought. A grin pinched at the corner of her mouth, but it fell at the glare Fry shot her way. Jay shrugged.

Johns approached from behind her and struck a flare. Her eyes were still blown wide from looking into the dark, so the flare’s green spark felt particularly blinding. Riddick replaced his goggles over his eyes. Johns let the flare drop from his hand. It fell, illuminating the well for the  others to see.

“Other buildings weren't secure,” Riddick said and leaned forward to watch it fall. “So they ran here. Heaviest doors. Thought they'd be safe inside, but they forgot to lock the cellar.”

No one responded at the weight of their discovery. Jay and Riddick dispersed from the others and sat on a crate beside the cage. It was small but they managed to sit with enough room that only their elbows bumped. Riddick's presence gave Jay a comforting sense of companionship. She was nervous he might still leave her in the dust, but he had no motive to shank her  _ or worse _ . Senseless violence didn’t seem like his type. Every action, every move had a purpose, and killing her served none.

Shazza rounded the corner, coming down from the top of the cage and paused. Riddick watched her through his goggles and Jay lifted her head in greeting. Shazza had been not completely unfriendly towards the Credian but the thinly veiled distrust had eased after Jay had helped her with checking the sandcat.

Shazza nodded her head at Jay before turning to Riddick.

“Here,” she said and tossed her oxygen pump at Riddick. he caught it with an outstretched arm.

“What, it's broken?” He tossed the pump to the ground in distrust.

“No, there’s still a few hits,” Shazza crossed her arms and fumed in frustration that her extension of peace had been rebuked.

“Actually, you asshole, what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry,” she finished with a biting tone. Jay sat leaned forward in caution. She didn’t want the woman to run at Riddick.

‘ _ She’s gonna get herself hurt _ ,’ Jay thought, but she had to give the woman credit. She had balls.

Johns rounded the corner of the cage, seeming to smell out the tension. He looked back and forth between Shazza and Riddick and then to Jay’s poised stance.

“Okay, let’s board this place up and get the hell out of here,” he said to break the tension. He made a hand motion in the air, circling around to wrap things up. Jay leaped off the crate and exited the coring room.

* * *

Shazza’s thick leather boots kicked up sand and Jay followed in the powdery wake. They wove between the metal buildings and containers until they reached the corrugated lean-to that held the sandcat. Shazza had enlisted Jay’s help on the demand of Johns. 

“You know some mechanics?” Shazza had asked her with a sour face.

“I can hold my own,” Jay had responded with a squint. Shazza had nodded her head and gestured towards the sandcat's shed. The vehicle was dusty and corroded, but it lacked the same combustion inner workings that were most likely to see damage. They had worked in relative silence. Solar sandcats and other hauling machines made by the company had issues with the fan belt drying out and weathering. It would have taken Shazza a while to figure out why the ‘cat wouldn’t start. Without the fan belt, the power steering, the solar-power exchange, and crankshaft wouldn’t function. Shazza might have figured it out, but Jay shaved off a couple of hours of fumbling. They had almost finished before one of Imam’s older boys came running, eagerly summoning them in Arabic. 

“I think we just have to check the fluids and suspension before she’s good to go,” Jay said. Shazza's shoulders jumped in surprise. She hadn't been aware of how closely Jay had followed her. Jay cocked her head, waiting for confirmation. Shazza nodded. 

The engine panel was popped open and the unending sunlight lit the shed. The sun had yet to go down, and it had been several hours since the crash. Jay assumed the days were just very long on the planet. The rotation of the three suns likely made for expanses of daylight. Shazza bent and shuffled through a toolbox of wrenches, screwdrivers, and miscellaneous tools without a word. 

The dry, hot wind blew through the shed. The tarp pulled from the awning fluttered in response and a coil of Jay's dark hair blew across her face. She huffed lightly, expelling the stray strands from her mouth and gather her hair at the nape of her neck. It was getting long; it has been a while since her last choppy haircut. She had spent several months in transit with Johns and he didn't exactly trust her with sharp objects. With her hair gathered behind her head, Jay fished through the pockets of her utility pants for the strip of fabric she used to tie her hair back with. Jay squinted as the breeze picked up again and she secured her hair. Soft footsteps padded through the sand behind her and Jay glanced in their direction.

Jack approached them. Her light steps kicked up puffs of dust and dirt that drifted away. Jay quirked up the side of her mouth in a small smile which was returned in kind. Lips pulled back into a grin and she looked very boyish at that moment. Youthful charm and innocence emphasized by the baggy clothes and shaved head. Jack's eyes darted over Jay's face and her expression changed into one of wonder as her gaze settled over the piercings and the slight point of her ears.

"Cool," Jack said. Jay looked away bashfully. She didn't blame the girl for her fascination. The marvel of Jay's differences was not unfamiliar to her. Since she had left her home, Jay had been stared and gaped at. Credian's had an otherness to them that demanded attention from the rest of the 'verse.

Shazza looked up from the sandcat and glanced between Jack and Jay. Her gaze settled on her ears and her expression changed from confused interest to barely concealed shock. Jay returned the look with a bored expression. Tucking an errant curl, she turned to Jack. 

"You come to help?" Jay asked.

Shazza's gaze darted between the side of Jay's head and Jack. "We could use some help checking the suspension. Want to learn?" 

Jack puffed on the breathing unit and nodded emphatically, " Sure. Better than babysitting Paris. All he does is complain." 

Jay snorted and Shazza shook her head in amusement. Jack turned out to be a quick learner and was exceptionally good at passing tools and holding washers. Bent over the wheel well, Jay showed Jack how to check the suspension and tire pressure. She explained in as few words as possible what to look for and what could go wrong. The kid gobbled up the information like a starving dog, asking questions, and looking at the sandcat with calculating consideration. Shazza finished checking fluids and came to stand behind the two as they worked. Leaning back against a workbench, she wiped her hands on a dirtied oil rag. Jack and Jay finished checking the back suspension and rose to stand. The sandcat seemed to be in working order.

Jay nodded at Shazza. "She's looking good," she said. "You wanna go start her up."

"Sure," Shazza said, her face skewed slightly as though she didn't like being told what to do by the Credian. Hauling herself into the sandcat, Jay and Jack crowded by the driver seat as Shazza turned to key in the ignition. The engine sputtered and then whirred to life.

Shazza glanced up at the two with an excited grin that the others eagerly returned.

"Wooooo!" Jay hooted and Jack exclaimed in elation.

"Nicely done!" Shazza said in praise and pulled the sandcat forward into the light. Putting the vehicle into park, Shazza got out and landed on the ground in a small puff of sand. "Say," Shazza began and shielded her eyes from the suns, "how do you know so much about the machines, huh?" 

Jay frowned and wiped her hands on the discarded rag from the worktable. She focused on the oil and dirt crusted around her fingernails and shrugged. "Where I come from, you learn young how to be useful," she gestured towards the sandcat, "That's how I was useful."

Shazza nodded, seeming to accept the answer, "You really a thief like Johns said?"

Jay grimaced and tossed the rag behind her onto the table. "Sure am." 

"That's what you were arrested for?" Jack asked from beside her.

Jay crossed her arms over her chest. "Mhmm," she said, not wanting to delve into the charges. Mentioning the murders wouldn't sway their opinion of her in her favor.

Shazza's head bobbed in a nod and Jay sighed like the topic exhausted her.

"Have you been to prison?" Jack asked. Excitement tinged the kid's voice.

"Sure have," the criminal replied with a smirk. "Butcher Bay Correctional Facility," Jay enunciated the prison's name, her voice held a degree of pride, "but they couldn't keep me in."

"So that's where Johns was taking you when all this happened?" Shazza asked and flit her hand behind her in reference to the crash.

Jay snorted, "No." 

"No?" Shazza asked. Her frown seemed to deepen.

"Johns was returning me to the Company." Jay uncrossed her arms and stood straight. "I'm-," Jay paused, finding the right word, "property."

Jack looked up at her in shock, and Shazza glanced at the ground seeming almost sorry she had even asked. Jay shook her head. ' _She wanted to know_ ,' she thought.

"We should go patch up the skiff's wings so it's good to go when we need it," Jay ground out. Shazza nodded in agreement. Jay wanted to be unashamed of her past. She had done what she had done for a purpose, and it was probably beyond the understanding of the woman and the kid. Shazza's brows were still furrowed in a frown.

"I don't regret all of the things I've done, " Jay conceded. The woman's gaze shot up in trepidation. The kid stared at her in an expression of admiration and alarm. Jay shook her head and stepped out into the sunlight. "I have a good reason for being what I am."

Jay had taken several steps before she looked back at them. Her eyes made contact with Shazza's, and she thought of how Shazza had lost her husband. "You would probably understand that." 

Shazza's eyes darted around and the intelligent gleam in her eyes sparkled as she considered Jay's words. Jay looked at Jack, who stood stock-still. 

"You comin'?" Jay asked. The kid nodded and ran to catch up.

* * *

Jay and Jack wove between the corrugated containers, shoulder to shoulder. The kid looked up at Jay every few steps. Whether in marvel or contemplation, Jay wasn't sure, but she watched the kid's movement out of the corner of her eye. Jay couldn’t help the smile that rugged at her mouth. 

Fry darted out from one of the buildings. Johns popped out after her and loped into a jog without a glance at the others.

Outside, Riddick ambled between the containers, watching as Fry and Johns raced off towards another building. He stopped as Jay stepped through the doorway. He looked quizzically at the retreating figures and then back at Jay.

“No idea,” she responded to his unanswered question with a shrug of a shoulder. Riddick's tinted goggles were placed over his eyes so she couldn't see how they traced over her form.

"Hmm," he rumbled in acknowledgment. The two walked shoulder to shoulder in the direction Fry and Johns had run.

Paris was already in the station’s office when Jay arrived. He looked significantly less green in color. Jack brightened at the sight of Riddick. She straightened her spine and crossed her arms in an attempt to look cool and casual.

‘ _Lil’ badass_ ,’ Jay thought with a slight grin. The girl was endearing in an unusual way. There was a spark in her that reminded Jay of a different girl buried deep in her heart.

Jack and Shazza entered a building behind her.  The room must have been an old office for geologists. There were desks and dust-covered shelves, and papers scattered over tabletops. Most of the writing was weathered and bleached away. Jay picked up a paper, her eyes scanning the scribbles uncomprehending. She recognized numbers, but she frowned at the page and tossed it aside. Jay couldn't read the papers. She had picked up a few important words since she had left her planet, but the great majority of the writing was still just scratchy figures. Johns was speaking at Fry, scheming some plan of escape, and hovering over her shoulder, but the woman was engrossed with the most interesting part of the room. At the center sat a model. There were six balls attached to a cyclical mechanism. Jay assumed the glowing ones accounted for suns. There were three planets: the largest center-most body, a dark one with large rings, and a small yellow one. A counter ticked as Fry moved the miniature system in revolutions. Jay watched, fascinated by the model of the system.

_ Click. Click,  _ the ticker sounded. Jay moved around Johns and crouched in front of the model beside Fry.

_ Click. Click. Click. _ The model would move no more, the ticker had stopped on a swirling symbol.

‘ _Twenty-two_ ’ Jay thought, recognizing the number symbols after a moment.

“An eclipse,” Fry broke the silence. The others glanced between themselves nervously. Jay had heard the term before. It meant blocking of the sun by other solar bodies. Jay’s mother had told her about how sometimes the sun would become blocked by the moons and the world became cast in darkness. Jay had hung onto her mother's stories as a young girl, wanting to know more about the universe she thought she would never get to see.

Riddick chuffed, his arms crossed, “You're not afraid of the dark, are you?”

Their eyes met through tinted lenses, and there was a moment of silent tension. 

' _The monsters live in the darkness_ ,' Jay thought. ' _What happens when there's nothing holding them at bay?'_

* * *

There was a flurry of movement after the discovery of the eclipse. Jay's mind flitted over escape scenarios and possible plays. She figured the civilians would crumble at the first shitstorm of trouble, but, surprisingly, they had all parted ways after the model room and scurried off to prepare for a trek back to the crash site. 

Shazza and the kid had gone back to the skiff to patch up the weathered wings. They probably could use her help but she was much too intrigued by the conversation Johns and Fry were having. They were a few spans ahead of her with their heads together. If they were going to make a plan, Jay wanted to be the first to know.

‘ _ Ten creds Johns stills wants my head after this. If we get out…’  _ Jay thought. She was worth too much to the company to just get cut loose. Jay knew Johns was Marine Military Police turned merc. He had started out clean as a whistle, paid to hunt down deserters during the Wailing Wars, but once you’re in that life it’s hard to get out. Mercs were mercs, not because of what they did, but because of who they become. Some were better than others, but Johns got Jay’s back up. The merc had something up his sleeve. She’d spent enough time with him in holding not to underestimate what was really beneath his charming smile.

Jay slowed her pace and tucked a loose hair behind her ears. She was out of their sight, but they were still in her hearing range.

“So we gotta get the power cells.” Jay's ears twitched towards the pitch of Fry’s voice. It wavered slightly; she was antsy.

“Shit, I've gotta check the hull and patch up the wings-” Johns’ voice cut her off and their footsteps scuffed to a stop in the sand.

“Wait on the power cells,” Johns’ tone implied there’d be no movement on this demand.

“Wait for what? Until it's too dark?” Fry shot back.

“You don't know when it'll happen, so don't get excited.”

“Just get the fucking cells here, Johns. What is the discussion?” Fry sounded irritated.

Johns was smarmy and condescending, “Maybe I should tell you how Riddick escaped.”

Jay piqued at this.  ‘ _ Now this is the kinda shit I hung around for’, _ she thought _. _

“C’mon,” Johns said with a lowered voice. Two pairs of footsteps shuffled away and Jay slunk off in their direction.

Johns led Fry back to the skiff but Jay lingered around the corner of a container where she could see the skiff. Jay moved quietly and with the grace of a practiced thief. She’s had a few years to perfect her smooth movements.  Shazza and Jack were crouched on the wing of the ship. Hunched over a sparking torch, the kid had placed her goggles over her eyes and was handing Shazza various materials and tools. She tapped Shazza’s and nodded at the Johns and Fry approaching. Shazza lifted a thick welders mask off her face.

“Can I help you?” Her cheeks were flushed and beaded with sweat.

Johns had his hands on his hips in his usual posturing stance, “Will you two give us a moment?”

Shazza huffed and turned to Jack, “Let's go get some shade.”

They crawled down from the wing and disappeared out of Jay's line of sight.  Johns directed Fry into the skiff with a tilt of his head. He glanced around nervously before following. Johns looked shaky like he was ready for his next spike. He was slipping a little. He always got a bit twitchy when he crashed. Jay slunk around the container. Her knees bent slightly, she and her ears peeled. She wanted to hear everything that was said.  She snuck out from the shade of the containers. Approaching by the nose of the ship, Jay ran her hand along the dust-covered siding. Jay caught Johns’ murmur and stopped.

“He knows how to fly a skiff.”

“He can pilot?” Fry sounded incredulous. Jay leaned sideways and rested her head against the metal.

‘ _ Well now, this changes things, _ ’ Jay thought and a chagrined smile touched at her lips. She hadn’t taken Riddick’s proposition earlier seriously. 

_ ‘What do you say we get outta here, catch a skiff, and find us somewhere private’ _ , the low grumble of his voice echoed in her head. She had assumed he was bluffing - just some mindless flirting to pass the time - but he could pilot and that gave them a real chance at freedom.

“He hijacked a prison transport,” Johns continued. “Made a hell of a good run before I tracked his ass down.”

“Okay. Okay. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we can use him to help us navigate or something,” Fry piped.

‘ _ Trying to find the good in this. Cute, _ ’ Jay thought with a grimace.

“He also figured out how to kill the pilot.”

“You told me we could trust him -  _ both of them _ !” Fry’s tone was high and alarmed, “You said that we had a deal.”

“Now, you may have noticed,” Johns went on, “but chains don't work on either of these assholes. The only way you people are truly safe is if Riddick believes he’s going free. I’ll deal with the girl after.”

“Say he stops believing-”, Fry drew up short and paused. “If he realizes we're going to fuck him over.”

“I want you to just listen to me,” Johns said harshly. “If we bring the cells up at the last possible minute when the wings are ready and we--”

“He hasn't harmed us. He hasn't even lied to us,” Fry strained uneasily. She didn’t sound like she liked the idea of fucking them over.

‘ _ As she should _ ,’ Jay thought. 

“Let's just stick to the deal,” Fry said firmly. She was beginning to grow on Jay. 

Johns almost shouted, “He's a killer! The law says he has to do his bid. There's nothing I can do about that. Okay?”

“What about Jay? You’re not worried about her?” Fry sounded deflated. She was considering the half-truths Johns was feeding her.

“Jay? C’mon, Carolyn, she doesn’t know how to pilot. She’s an escaped slave,” a laugh was caught in his voice. “She’ll do what we want as long as she has some hope of getting away.”

“You're dancing on razor blades here,” Fry conceded.

_ Scrape, clank, scrape.  _ Jay perked at the noise and spun her head to look for the sound. It was close.

_ Scrape, clank, scrape.  _ It was coming from the other side of the ship. She turned to find the source. She had heard enough of the conversation.

‘ _Gonna screw us over, coulda guessed that from the beginnin’_ _though,’_ Jay thought sardonically. Jay caught Johns’ softened tone as she walked around the nose of the ship. 

“I'm not gonna give him a chance to grab another ship, or slash another pilot's throat.” He spoke as though he actually cared about what happened to the others, “Not on my watch.”

* * *

RIDDICK

Jay rounded the corner with a saunter. Her hips swayed with lithe grace. She was beautiful like a wild animal. All claws, and teeth, and quiet fury. He raised his head in greeting.

_ Scrape, clank, scrape _ . Riddick ran the curved metal shiv he’d swiped from Johns across his skull. The chemical scent of the industrial lube tinged his nose, but it was the best thing he had been able to find to shave the stubble from his scalp. It had been a while since he’d shaved his face and head. Body hair and nails didn’t grow in cryo sleep, but he’d been busy evading Johns at the time he had last needed to. 

Jay stopped a few feet away and watched as he ran the shiv across the rim of the lube tin with a metallic scrape. Her head tilted as she studied him with sparkling eyes. Her tangled hair was tucked behind her ears. They were pointed and decorated with hooped piercings and they twitched at the bristle of the shiv running across his head. She looked younger with her hair pulled back. Riddick guessed that she was in her early twenties maybe, but Credians aged differently. There was a pale scar running diagonally along with her right temple.

‘ _ Very pretty,’  _ he thought.

“Need a hand? You’re missing patches,” she offered in a gentle, raspy voice. She was a yard away but still held out her hand. Riddick hesitated.

‘ _ A risky offer. Shivs can slip into necks very easily,’ _ he thought. Riddick weighed the choice carefully. She was fast and Riddick bet she knew how to use a blade well enough to kill him if she chose. Jay had proposed they be allies, though, and she hadn’t shown him any signs of wanting to kill him so far.

She seemed to sense his thoughts, “I promise that blade won’t go anywhere it’s not supposed to. Unless you say please.” Her tone dripped with innuendo and flashed a toothy smile at him. Riddick liked this flirty side of Jay. He skillfully flipped the shiv around and presented the handle to her. She stepped forward and took it with a grin. Jay shoved the lube bucket aside with her foot and stepped between his legs.

“Unless I say please…” Riddick grumbled in a warning.

Jay made quick work over his scalp in silence. The bristling of the shiv over his hair and the clank of the blade against the bucket filled the space between them. The draw was slow and careful, but he was wary nonetheless.

“Wanted to talk to you about something,” Jay began.

“Mmm?” Riddick rumbled in question. The bass of voice rolled through the breadth of his chest. He was preoccupied with watching as the Jay’s movements. Although his gaze were partially directed in caution, he enjoyed the physical closeness to the beautiful woman. His hand strayed from his lap and his fingertips danced their way up her leg to her hip. Jay’s shaving paused and she looked down at him with an inviting smirk. Riddick grinned up at her and his hand settled against her leg, molding to the curve of her hip. Footsteps crunched on the gravel and sand ground as Johns stepped out of the skiff. He braced a hand against the siding and began retching.

‘ _ Withdrawals,’ _ Riddick thought without sympathy. Jay and Riddick exchanged a knowing glance and he removed his hand. Jay bent and clanked the shiv against the bucket louder than necessary. The sound spooked Johns and he looked up at the two. His face was guilty and vulnerable, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Bad sign.” Riddick began, “Shaking like that in this heat.” Jay continued to shave Riddick’s head passing over his scalp in careful, clean strokes.

“I thought I said no shivs,” Johns said but his voice was shaky. He needed a fix. 

Riddick faked an aghast tone, “Shivs? This?” 

Jay bends again and Riddick can’t help watching her ass through the tinted lenses. Over her back, Riddick retorts, “This is just a personal grooming appliance, Johns.”

Jay and Riddick watch Johns as he stares warily at the blade grasped in Jay’s hand. Riddick catches the malevolent grin she flashes Johns before the merc stumbles away. 

“Heard something of interest. Thought you might wanna know,” the shiv scraped gently across his stubbly scalp. “Back in the mines, the guards had me bring tools and parts to the mechanics when I was too little to do any heavy lifting. I don’t know too much about flying but I do know machines. And you can’t run a full systems check on only one node.”

The blade clanked against the bucket again. Jay tilted her head and frowned to focus on his temple and behind his ear. Riddick watched the angles and slopes of her feline face and the crease that formed between her eyebrows as she worked.

“Johns is gonna have us in chains as soon as we’re off this rock,” she spoke low and matter-of-fact.

“What did you expect from Johns,” Riddick retorted, hoping Jay wasn't foolish enough to believe Johns ever had the intention to let the both of them off the hook.

“Nothing much. Unfortunately, he’s living up to my expectations,” she responded and continued her task. “Mentioned the particulars of your escape. Commendable really. I didn’t know you could pilot.”

The question doesn’t sound like a question, but Riddick answered anyways, “Not exactly something to advertise.”  Jay grunted softly in response, understanding his reasoning. 

There were some things that should be kept to yourself while living the dangerous lifestyle of a convict. There was another weighted pause before Riddick asks, “How’d you end up in chains, little thief? Grand auto theft?”

“That's just skimming the surface,” Jay snuffed softly at his question. She bends to clean the blade and glances at him cautiously. She seemed to be weighing whether or not to share that particular detail with him. After all, knowledge was power. Jay sighed and glanced at Riddick once more before delicately shaving behind his other ear.

“My official charge is for three counts of murder and a couple of counts of theft. Some low-level shit. Didn’t like me running away, or my escape from Butcher Bay. But the real reason Johns’ got a hard-on for me is that the Company is paying big for my return. Want to make an example of me, I think.”

Riddick seems to weigh her words. The Company was not something to fuck with. They were old, powerful, and dealt in some lucrative business ventures like Credian slave forces. He asked, “Sigma 5?”

There was something about him that made Jay uneasy. There was something about the way he watched her that made her think that he understood her a lot better than Shazza or the kid ever could. Jay paused before replying with a sigh, "yeah."

“You can’t pilot,” Riddick pressed. “How’d you get out?”

Riddick watched as she silently cleaned up the nape of his neck and leaned closer into him to reach. He inhaled deeply through his nose. She smelled like dust, sweat, and woman.

“Paid a transport pilot to let me stowaway and say I held him at gunpoint. Credits were stolen,” Jay gave him an offhand shrug. 

"Had some help getting out of Butcher Bay. I made a lot of people angry with that one." Jay looked at Riddick through her eyelashes in mirth, "I don't think Hoxie wants me back."

“Look at you, kitty cat,” Riddick chuckled with a tilt of his lips. “Real badass.” 

Jay’s expression mirrored his. She had another scar on her upper lip, cutting across the plump bow. She ran her empty left hand across the landscape of his bald head, the movement bordered on intimate, “I’ve been thinking about that proposition you made. Back on the crashed ship?”

“Have you now?” Riddick looked up at her. Jay's hand lingered down his neck and shoulder before presenting the shiv back to him, handle first. Riddick grasped the handle firmly and leaned into her with a smirk. Heat tickled over his skin where Jay's fingers had traced.

“I'm thinking I might take you up on it.”

* * *

FRY

Fry hit the lever to close the skiff's door. They whirred shut as the hydraulics kicked in and Fry swung herself down into the pilot's seat. The screens blinked the skiff's charge, pressure levels, and maintenance stats as Fry entered the codes to run a check on the hull's integrity. The system was similar to the older models used in docking training.  Fry observed the loading screen as the system ran its course.

“Thanking you,” she said and released the swivel on the chair to close the floor compartment. Fry swung around and came face-to-face with Riddick. He stood quietly at the skiff's door, his face basked in shadow. She gasped and her eyes darted around looking for an escape.

' _Riddick,_ ' she thought. Her hands began to tremble when he spoke. 

“Looks like we're a few shy. Power cells," Riddick drawled and stepped closer to the shuttle's cockpit.

“They're coming," Fry whispered. Gooseflesh ghosted across the nape of her neck and the back of her arms and she began to sweat. Fry felt like prey about to get caught by a predator.

"It's strange, not doing a run-up on the main drive yet," Riddick postured and went to remove the breathing unit that hung around his neck.

“Unless-," Riddick draped the coils of his unit onto a hook on the wall. 

"Unless he told you,” Riddick paused and turned to face her, “the particulars of my escape.”

“I got the quick-and-ugly version," Fry whispered harshly. Fear prickled through every aspect of her being.

“Now you're worried about a repeat of history," he stated.

“It has entered our minds," Fry conceded and reached to shut off a screen that reported the ship's integrity.

Riddick stepped forward, encroaching her space, and stepped on the power cell hatches. _Clang, clang._

“I asked what you thought," Riddick said.

Fry was at a loss of words. He was so close to him, panic raced through her veins. “You scare me, Riddick." She murmured. "That's what you want to hear, isn't it?  Now, can I just get back to work?”  Fry turned back to the front consol.

“I've been meaning to catch up with you alone," Riddick continued despite Fry's attempt to end the conversation.

“Unrestrained..." the life support system ran its check with a beep.

“Do you think-do you think Johns is a do-right man?” Fry felt Riddick move behind her. His presence was heavy at her back. "You think I could trust him to cut me loose?"

Panic and fear flooded through her and she considered that maybe he or the Credian had heard her conversation with Johns. She fought to keep the quiver out of her voice.  “Why? What did you hear?”

“Well," he grunted. "I guess if it were 'trickeration' he'd just "X" me out. He'd kill me.  Then again, I am worth twice as much alive." Riddick paused. Fry's head cocked back at the mention of 'worth'. She understood what Riddick was implying.

"C’mon, Fry, law-enforcement doesn’t deal with Credians directly. You think he’s delivering her to justice?” Riddick seemed to notice the quirk of her head because he pushed. 

“You didn't know that?" Riddick moved even closer to her, his warm breath blew across the damp hair at her neck. He spoke into her ear, "Your Johns ain't a cop. He's got that nickel-slick badge," Riddick moved to her other ear, "And that blue uniform, but he's just a merc."

"And I'm just a payday," he moved back to her other side. Fry's mouth dropped open and she tried to calm her quickening breath. Riddick's closeness unnerved her. He frightened her in a way she had never before known; the power of him was terrifying.

“That's why he won't kill me, see? The creed is greed-," his lips tickled over her ear.

“Don't waste my time!" Fry interrupted him.  “We're not gonna turn on each other, no matter how hard you try.” Fry moved away from him and swung down into the cockpit. She tried to return to her task, but she paused when she heard the clunk of Riddick's boots behind her.

“I don't truly know what's gonna happen when the lights go out, Carolyn." Riddick spoke by her head, "But I do know once the dying starts this little psycho-fuck family of ours is gonna rip itself apart.”

Fry fought to calm her racing heart and she continued to stare ahead. Riddick moved away towards the skiff's door. She exhaled softly in relief and rested her head back against the headrest.

“Ever wonder why Johns shakes like that? Ask him.” Riddick paused  “and ask why your crew pal had to scream so painfully before he died.” The monitor chirped, showing the system check was complete. The door lowered and Riddick's footsteps echoed down the plank.

* * *

Riddick's words had occupied Fry's mind after he had left. The implication of what he said bothered Fry, so, when her hands stopped shaking and her heart stopped racing, she went looking for Johns. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, weighing everything he had said to her. She cursed herself for not seeing it. It didn't take her long to find Johns. He was leaning back on a stool with a needle poised above his eye. Fry flushed with rage at the sight.

“So who are you really?" Fry spoke as he injected the capsule of fluid into his tear duct. "You're not a cop, are you?”

Johns removed the needle and shook his head, “I never said I was."

“No, you didn't,” Fry walked across the room to a table with Johns' big gauge and ammo shells. Brazenly, Fry rummaged through his things the shells and looked into the hollow casing with hidden ampules of - what she assumed were - morphine.

“You never said you were a hype, either.”

“You have a little caffeine in the morning and I have a little morphine. So what?” Johns said in consternation. His handsome face was drawn up in defense and he slouched forward on the stool.

“Here you got two mornings every day," the rage and bitterness in her voice were obvious.  “Wow, were you born lucky."

“It's not a problem unless you're gonna--” Johns began but was cut off by Fry.

“No," she interrupted, "it becomes a problem when you let Owens die like that!”

Her voice was raised and fury raced through her limbs. Her heart raced, “You have enough drugs here to knock out a mule team.”

“Owens was already dead," Johns started with a shake of his head. His voice was snide and insincere, "his brain just hadn't caught on to the fact.”

“Is there anything else," Fry ground out and tampered her anger,  “I should know about you? Christ, here I am letting you play games with our lives--” She was cut off as John invaded her space and grabbed her hand. She was startled as he moved it onto the small of his back and forced them into an embrace. The movement was a cheap imitation of what would usually be an intimate act. He moved their hands over a jagged scar near his spine. Fry recoiled from the touch and tried to step away from him. "My first run-in with Riddick," Johns' breath tickled over her face. "Went for the sweet spot and missed. They had to leave a piece of the shiv there. I can feel it, sometimes, pressing against the cord."

Johns let go of her hand and she extracted it as though he had burned her. Johns snarled at her, "So maybe the care and feeding of my nerve-endings is my business." 

Fry stepped away from him and turned to walk away. "You could have helped and you didn't," she spoke. Her voice was laced with blame and animosity.

“Yeah, look to thine own ass first, right, Caroline?” Johns spoke at her retreating back.

“Captain, Captain...” Imam's two older boys came racing in a jabber of Arabic.

Fry held up a hand to stop them, “I’m not your fucking captain." She stepped out into the sunshine. The Chrislam boys followed behind her with Johns in pursuit. The other's had gathered, all of their eyes were fixed on the horizon as an arch cut through the sky. Fry's mouth dropped open and her stomach dropped. She was confounded by the sight.

“What do my eyes see?” Paris murmured and adjusted his eyeglasses.

"It's starting, _"_ Fry spoke. Dread wrapped its tendrils around her chest. They all watched on as the arch rose in the sky towards the twin suns.

“If we need anything from the crash ship, I suggest we kick on," Shazza spoke, shaking Fry out of her trance. "That sand cat's solar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm sorry it's been so long! Uni has kept me busy, but I'm jobless at the moment so I can update more! I have the rest of the fic planned out so it won't take me long to pound out the rest of the story. 
> 
> \- Feel free to comment any suggestions/thoughts/corrections!
> 
> \- I've been playing around with scenes that diverge from the average Pitch Black fanfiction while keeping true to the canon. I always had a crush on Shazza, so I hope I do alright with her as a character. I think Jay has a lot of respect for Shazza as a woman with a spine. On another note, I wanted to convey the tampered hurt that Jay experiences with the loss of little Ali. The movie deals with the death in a very neutral way because of the POV it's filmed in, but, by delving into the thoughts (feelings and emotions) of Jay, I felt like I was able to write the other side of the story that we don't get from the movie.


	7. Strength in Fear

JAY

“If we need anything from the crash ship, I suggest we kick on," Shazza said. "That sandcat's solar.”  The hypnotic hold of the arch in the sky loosened. Jay had never seen an eclipse before, but she assumed that the darkening bodies in the sky were a part of it. Her gut clenched.

“C’mon, let's get a move on!” Shazza called out to Jay as everyone scattered. The panic in the woman’s voice strained the syllables. Jay looked down at the kid beside her. Fear was blatant on Jack’s face and pulled her eyes wide open on her small face.

“Go help Shazza,” Jay told the girl, but Jack was frozen in fright. Placing a light hand on the girl’s shoulder, she gave the girl a nudge in the direction Shazza had raced off in. “We’re goin’ be fine, go!” Jack stumbled and seemed to shake herself. She looked up at Jay once more before racing off between the buildings.

Jay weighed following Jack and helping to prep the sandcat, but all it required was the cranking of the engine and loading up supplies. She darted into the cantina and found Imam and his boys. He spoke in lilting Arabic, directing the others.

“Do you need any help?’ Jay asked. He glanced up at her soft voice.

“Yes. That would be great,” he replied.

“ _ Eajal, eajal _ ,” he spoke to his boys. They laded their arms with water, rope, and hand-held lights before speeding off through the compound. Jay’s heartbeat thumped in her chest and she breathed deeply through her nose. The anxious excitement raced through her veins like a shooter blast and time blurred. The sandcat whirred past and halted in front of a building.

“Go! Go!” Shazza called from the driver seat and the Chrislams piled aboard.

“You got everything? Where is everyone?” the captian asked racing up to the vehicle, her breath was labored.

Jay nodded and swung herself up into the back, “everything that’s necessary.”

Paris scurried from between two buildings. “Let’s move it!” Fry shouted at him. He fumbled to get up into the sandcat and Jay offered her hand to him. He shot her a wide-eyed look of alarm before allowing her to haul him up. He was taller than Jay, but she helped him with ease.  Everyone clambered on and Jay braced herself against the roll-cage, looking over the compound. They were missing two.

“Where’s Riddick?” Jack panicked.

“Leave him!” Paris snarked and Jay’s head swung up to glare at him. “He wouldn’t wait for us!” He was cut off by the bang of heavy boots hitting the rear bed. Paris startled and locked eyes with Riddick.

“Thought we lost you,” Paris stuttered. Jay snickered at the cowardly man. She quirked a small grin at the Riddick, which he returned.

“Nice of you to join us,” she said.

“Johns!” Shazza shouted and geared the vehicle forward. The sandcat lurched. Riddick’s hand shot out to steady her, “Pleasure is all mine.”

The doors to the nearest building ripped open and Johns came jogging out. He seemed to struggle to grab ahold of the sandcat’s rear and accepted an outstretched hand, he was reeled aboard and came face to face with Riddick. Johns seemed to hesitate before giving him a slight nod. The sandcat roared through the canyon jostling everyone around. Riddick leaned across from Jack. The kid was hanging onto the cage above Jay, attempting to make an intimidating face at Riddick. Jack lowered her broken goggles over her eyes and smirked. She was as frightening as a mewling kitten. Jay chuckled from her crouch. Jack was so distracted by trying to maintain eye contact with Riddick that she wasn’t aware of the massive rib cage that bisected the canyon. Riddick pointed a single finger at the obstacle they were approaching. Jack ducked her head in time as the roll cage smashed through the low-lying bones, showering the passengers with dust. The bridge bones collapsed their wake.

‘ _ That might be a bitch to get through, later.’  _ Jay shook the dust from her hair as they barreled forward. The sandcat emerged from the canyon into the mass grave and Jay gasped as they rimed the edge of the valley. Squinting into the horizon, Jay marveled as a giant planet crested in a luminous arc across the horizon. It was moving quickly.

“Oh, my,” she murmured under her breath and caught Riddick glancing at her in the corner of her eye. Paris whimpered from across the bed which Jay promptly ignored. The man had no guts and it made her bristle with annoyance.

The rest of the journey was in relative silence as Shazza gunned the vehicle over the rocky expanse. At one point they hit a rise and the sandcat got air before landing with a jarring thunk.

“Okay, when we get there, we break off and get what we need as quickly and as smoothly as we can. Power nodes are the first priority, then water, and whatever else. We need five to launch. Do we understand?” Fry spoke as they neared the crash ship.

“Aye-aye, captain,” Johns replied. His tone was filled with venomous snide.

The vehicle came to a screeching halt and everyone leaped out of the back. Their faces were stern with severity. They were racing against time. Fry jogged off into the main cabin. Riddick’s silhouette raced off into the ship and Johns spun around. “C’mon,” he called to Jay, “We’re goin’ to need you.”

Jay wanted to snark back something smart, but now was not the time to be a wisecracking. She swung herself down from the roll cage.

“Stay here with,” she said to Jack and the girl gave her a shaky nod.

The shade from the ship offered some reprieve from smothering dry heat outside. The stairs up to the power deck creaked as she flew up, two at a time. Johns yanked the first cell and it hit the ground with a _BANG_. Jay flinched at the grating noise as he began dragging it across the deck. Riddick grabbed a second and third cell and threw them across his broad, muscular shoulders. Jay caught the smug grin he shot Johns and scoffed. The cells were heavy but she hefted the fourth cell across her shoulder and turned to head down the rickety metal steps. Behind her, Johns shouldered his own cell and stumbled behind her.

“Hurry up,” he grumbled behind her as the three raced through the ship.

Jay gave him a scathing once over before growling, “you hurry up, Johns.” She let him stumble past.

Outside, Shazza had spun the sandcat around and the tail-end was lashed to a metal sled. 

Jay lay the cell down on the sled’s bed. Riddick and Johns had dropped their cells and turned to watch the sky. The landscape, that had been blindingly alight only a few hours ago, was slowly dimming to a soft gold. Jay counted the rings of the planet in the sky as it crept across the yellow sun. She tapped her fingers against her pant leg; the beat was a fast and anxious bounce. She wasn’t exactly sure what would happen when the eclipse settled, but her instincts prickled to attention. The anticipation of the darkness readied her body; her senses sharpened and her blood raced. Daylight faded into dusk as the yellow sun disappeared behind the planet like God pulled shutters over the horizon. The group stood and gawked at the disappearing light.

Jay had spent so many of her early years in the dark. The mines she had been born in on Sigma 5 had been dirty, with settlements dug into the caves and industrial parks. Life had been short and hard where every day was as exhausting and dangerous as the next. Now in her relative freedom, she marveled at how she could watch the universe move around her.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop…” Jack muttered, hunched over the solar panels on the sandcat with a rag. “Just give me a minute,” She said, scrubbing at the dust. The soft whir from the mechanism stopped. “Shit.”

Jay’s eyes widened, adjusting to the lower light. It was much more comfortable than the almost-permanent squint she had adopted before. Her people did well in the dark.

A high keening shriek echoed through the dark. Head swinging in the direction of the sound, Jay’s ears pricked as the shriek sounded again, more and more returning the call. Her hand stilled at her side. Jay looked across the horizon as figures flew out of the spire-tops. Whooping and calling in a cacophony of flight. Squeals and shrieks called into the nightfall. The shapes continued to pour out of the spires, circling up into the sky.

“Jesus, how many are there?” Johns asked, but no one answered. The group crowded behind Jay’s back.

“Beautiful,” Riddick whispered in his low rumble. Jay agreed.

“Allah,” Imam murmured. The creatures kept coming, filling the sky in swarms. They are small like the ones from the compound. Their fluttering wings swooped in an acrobatic dance through the air as they continued to spiral upwards. Jay had never seen anything like it.

“People, just a suggestion,” Paris shouted from the cargo container, “but perhaps you should flee!” Jay’s body twisted to run, but her eyes were glued to the plummeting swarm in fascination.

“Let’s go!” Fry clanged against the metal roll cage.

“Come on, run,” someone shouted.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Jay said, as the swarm descended from the sky, maws snapping and wings flapping.

“Shit!” Shazza screamed before leaping out of the vehicle.

Riddick lingered beside her before nudging her shoulder with his hand. “Move that ass, Jay,” Riddick said, shaking her from her trance. Spinning, she raced off towards the cargo container. She could hear the thunderous flapping of thousands of wings over the blood pounding in her ears.

“Get down!” Fry called. The others had made it.

Hearing the wave of shrieking animals, Shazza and Riddick threw themselves into a ditch, and Jay lept in after. She hit the ground with a thud and rolled through the dirt. Leathery wings beat through the air above her head as the creatures torrented overhead. Jay cocked an ear and scanned the sky. Beside her in the dirt, Riddick raised his head, glancing from Jay to Shazza. Shazza pushed herself up into a pushup after a moment. Jay watched as she sprinted towards the cargo hold, arms pumping.

“No! Stay there!” Jack screamed from the cargo hold, “Shazza, stay down! Stay down!”

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Jay thought before the swarm dive-bombed the ditch. Flying only inches above her head, Jay tried to flatten herself as much as possible.

“Shazza, stay down!” the scream came again. Jay watched as the swarm shot forward, enveloping Shazza. The woman gasped before releasing a bloodcurdling scream. The creatures attached themselves to her, and, in frenzied screeches, they seemed to raise the woman into the air. Ripping and tearing at her flesh, Shazza screamed. She screamed until… she was ripped into two and carried away. Blood spattered over the ground.

Jay had seen death before. It was a commonplace she had grown accustomed to during her childhood and well into her adulthood when she had taken the lives of three men, but Jay had never seen someone ripped into pieces by writhing swarms of beasts. Her stomach did a flop.

Riddick stood up beside her when the screeching grew distant. He casually looked from side-to-side as though he were about to cross a busy street. Brushing his hands he of dust, he held out a hand to help her up.

“Thanks,” Jay chirped. He yanked her to her feet with ease, his hand lingered in hers and he nodded.

“Please,” Paris said from the cargo container. ”I really think we should go inside. We have to be inside to be able to close the door. Let’s go! Go, go, go!”

Jay agreed with him for the first time. The cargo hold would probably be safer than out in the open. Paris ushered Jack inside as Riddick and Jay approached. There was a loud whoop and Jay turned in its direction.

“What is it?” The captain asked, lingering at the door. “What is it now?” The rumbling crack began and whooping calls echoed. Jay turned to watch the spires. Beside her, Riddick pushed his goggles up into his head.

“You hear that?” Fry asked and looked at Jay. She nodded, not moving her gaze from the horizon as larger creatures emerged from the spires, pouring out and calling into the dark.

“Like I said,” Riddick replied, “it ain't me you gotta be worried about.”

They watched the creatures take flight as the last glimmer of the red sun disappeared behind the rings of the planet. Jay’s eyes adjusted to the near pitch black and looked over to see Riddick watching her. Jay flashed him a toothy grin. The milky pale of his eyes glimmered back at her. Together, they guided the captain into the hold.  Jack was waiting for her inside the door and rushed at her with open arms. She wrapped herself around Jay’s waist and the door closed behind her. The group was cast in darkness.

“She should’ve stayed down. If only she would’ve stayed down, she’d be okay. She wouldn’t have died,” Jack mewled. Jay patted her shoulder in an attempt of comfort. Physical affection had never been much of her strong suit. Jay understood sex, death, and survival, but most else fell into a grey area of general understanding. Flashlights and handlamps began to flick on. 

“Don’t that, Jack. Wasn’t your fault or even hers,” Jay told the girl and gave her shoulder another pat. Jack’s arms tightened around her. “You’ll tear yourself apart talkin’ the ‘ _what ifs_ ’.”

The young girl sniffled. Jay thought of a different girl, one Jack reminded her of, and her heart ached fiercely. She untangled herself from Jack’s embrace.

“You just puttin’ two and two together, Johns?” Jay snarked. Johns swung his light at her face. She squinted at him, wrinkling her nose.

"Get that ligh' outta my face," she spat and raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“Rag your hole.” Johns’ twang was thick with irritation, but he moved his light away.

“What are we gonna do now?” Jack asked.

“Are these the only lights we have? Is-is this everything?” Paris stuttered and practically quivered in fear. Despite her dislike for the man, she couldn’t blame him. Riddick moved through the shadows, dodging stray limbs.

Jay spotted it pushed over by the wall, “here.”

A soft clang echoed through the hold followed by the soft pattering of feet. The hair at her nape rose, and her instincts screamed at her to get out of there. “We shouldn’t linger,” Jay said softly.

“Quiet please, everyone.” A low whooping echoed and the group moved to the outside wall to listen. Ears and hands pressed against the metal, the group quieted as the whoops and shrieks continued. Jack asked, “why do they do that? Make that sound?”

Jay snapped up at a movement in the shadows down the corridor. “A way out?” She looked over to Riddick who shrugged.

“Perhaps it's the way they see, with sound reflecting back--” Imam’s shaky reply was interrupted as a loud noise grated through the hold. The sound was followed by a rattle and the group spun in its direction.

“Could be a breach in the hull,” Fry proposed. A light shone down the hall, but nothing popped out at Jay. “Mhmm,” she hummed.

“C’mon, Johns. You got the big gauge,” Riddick proposed.

“I’d rather piss glass,” Johns managed to sound bored. “Why don’t you go fuckin’ check?”

Movement darted again and there was a soft whoop. She whispered, “we need to get out of here.”

“I'm not staying here one more second,” Paris panicked.

“Where are you going?” Johns said.

“Hey! Hey!” Fry chased after the frightened man as he headed towards the doors. “Paris!” Imam managed to push him back against the wall.

“Sit him down,” Johns ordered and Paris slid down the metal.

Jay watched something move against and growled under her breath, “Stupid! You’re going to get yourself killed doin’ tha’.” She marched towards him.

“You don't know what's out there,” Fry spoke, but Jay’s attention drew Imam. He was prying a side door open.

“I know what’s in here,” Paris said.

Imam grunted jamming a crowbar into the doorframe. Jay watched something skitter down the hold. A low growl rumbled deep in her throat. The door finally gave and slid down. Imam ushered his boys into the side room, calling in Arabic.

“Hurry!”

Jay grabbed Jack’s shoulder and pushed her into the room. Imam slid the door back up, locking it. He leaned back with a sigh of relief.

“Now we're trapped in a much smaller space. I hate this!” Paris whined.

“Suck it up, pansy,” Jay snapped, losing her cool. She bared her teeth into the darkness, not that he could see. There was a clicking and a soft clang before something punched through the metal of the door. Imam shouted in fright and Jay jumped. There was a flurry of movement as Johns started firing at the door. Riddick managed to start the hand torch and began cutting through a back panel. Jay hovered at his back watching Johns. As soon as the hole was cut, Riddick placed a strong kick and punched the metal inwards and Jay ducked in after him.

They were in a larger hold. Crates and smaller containers were held down by nets and cords. The others scrambled in after and tried to barricade the hole. Jay watched as Riddick wandered off and hesitated before padding after him. Although she had no obligation to be, Jay was concerned for Jack, but she would be fine if she stayed with the others. She caught up to him as he wove between obstacles through the dark cargo hold, looking for a way out. He turned to look back at her as she approached.

The silence was comfortable between them but Jay's mind itched to reassure that they were more-or-less in this together. "Hey, about before..." she began softly.

"You have a deal," Riddick replied before she could finish. "Besides," he drawled, his voice like gravel, "I think I hear a fur rug callin’ our names."

Jay chuckled. She felt like he was teasing, but there was something in his tone and the way his eyes bore into hers that made her think that he was completely joking. A grin pulled at her mouth.

Weaving between crates, they walked on in silence. At a sickening tearing sound, they stopped short. Jay looked up at the noise and inhaled sharply, and Riddick followed her gaze. One of the creatures was perched atop a container, ripping into a smaller creature. The creature seemed to look up from its meal before gorging itself again. Riddick grabbed her waist and back them up into the alley between two containers. The creature released a low clicking noise and looked up. They froze. Riddick’s large hand was warm at the curve of her waist and seemed to encompass the width of her torso. He held her to him and grumbled, “Don’t move.” 

The creature seemed to sweep the area with soft clicks.  Riddick and Jay stayed frozen in the shadow of the container when one of Imam’s acolytes rounded the corner. There was a wet smack as something hit the ground from above. She watched the young man’s head tilt up and look towards the creature feasting above them.

“Extremely bad timing,” Riddick growled. The Chrislam eyed the creature. ”Just don't run,” Riddick told the young man.

“Riddick? Jay?” Fry called through the hold.

“Don’t. Stop. Burning.” Riddick ground out the sentence. Soft conversation and quiet clicking echoed through the hold.

“Take this.” 

“Take that.”

“Ok.”

Jay didn’t dare turn her eyes away from the predator lurching above until the container by the boy shook. Her gaze darted as the other creature appeared. It leered down at the boy, clicking and whooping. The air smelled like piss. The poor kid had peed himself. Riddick’s grip tightened on her. The boy’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared up the predator. Its mouth gaped open to reveal rows of long, slashing teeth. Clawed hands extended and long boney blades eased out of their hands.

“Hassan? Where is Hassan?” Imam asked in the distance.

Riddick pulled her tighter to his warm body. Her heart raced from their close proximity. Jay watched as the boy’s head darted from the creature’s one hand to the other. Then, the blade of its hand shot out and the boy shouted in fear. He ran off down the deck, but out of the shadows popped a third creature. There was a loud thunk and the other two creatures scurried off in its direction. There was more tearing and screeching

Jay felt a pit in her stomach. Another boy was dead.

Riddick grabbed her hand and they paused in the corridor. Jay assumed he wanted to check if the boy was still alive. A movement caught her eye and she tugged on Riddick’s hand. He turned as another predator slunk of the shadows and whooped. Jay held tightly on his hand and raced through the hold in the direction of the others. Her heart raced and she wove between the containers. Riddick huffed as he ran beside her, his hand still tightly gripped in hers. He managed to keep up with her agile sprint, but so did the monster.

They rounded the corner to where the others were. The light swung around in their direction. It caught them in the face. Jay flinched, but Riddick yowled in pain and went down taking Jay with him. He landed mostly on top of Jay, pushing her back into the grated floor. Her nose pressed into his chest. Johns’ gauge went off five times before there was silence. Jay flinched as a loud thunk hit the floor and some screamed. There was nothing again. Riddick eased off of her and offered a hand to help her up. Pulled vertically, her gaze darted over his holey shirt and then his face. She nodded at him before moving away.

Everyone was crowded around the body of the fallen beast.

Fry asked, “Is it alive?”

The torch and hand lights darted over its body. Its skin started to sizzle. Jay wrinkled her nose at the scent of burning flesh.

“It's like the light is scalding it,” Paris said. 

“It hurts them. Light actually hurts them,” Fry announced in equal parts horror and wonder. It’s clawed hand twitched and everyone flinched back and gasped. The creature was larger than a grown man, a sickly grey, and had only two legs and a tail. There was a tearing and squealing sound from somewhere in the hold.

“Is that Hassan?” Imam asked. His eyes darted unseeingly into the dark.

“We'll burn a candle for him later. Come on. Let's get out of here,” Johns said callously and stomped off. Imam and Jack lingered. She approached them, tears shone in their eyes.

“I’m sorry, Imam,” Jay whispered to the holy man. He looked down at her sorrowfully. “C’mon, Jack.” Jay grasped the girl’s shoulder and shooed her forward.

* * *

RIDDICK

In a different storage container, the group sat around Fry’s hand light. Jack sat across from Riddick and had been reduced to a whimpering ball of nerves. She had more spine than anyone had given her credit. The kid was holding it together better than Johns. 

“So we've got one cutting torch. We've got two hand lights. There's gotta be something we can rip out of the crash ship,” Fry said and stood from her spot by the light. 

“Spirits,” Paris replied, fanning himself, “Anything over 45 proof burns rather well.”

There was a low scraping from beside Riddick. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Riddick watched as Jay ran a rough shard of metal against a stone. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand.

' _God, she's pretty,_ ' Riddick thought. ' _Especially when she handles a shiv.'_ His mind flashed to how her smaller body had felt flushed against his, tense muscles jumping under her trim waist. Stray curls had escaped the clinch of her ponytail and tickled his nose, her hair had smelt like dust and woman. She was attractive and not unlike the typical women he would typically go for. He liked a little danger.

Fry asked, “how many bottles you got?”

“I don't know,” Paris replied. “Maybe 5.”

“Johns, you've got some flares. Maybe we got enough light,” Fry cocked a hip. Worry played on her face.

“Enough for fuckin' what,” Johns asked. The merc’s voice grated against Riddick’s nerves. He was just another spineless bounty hunter. He had no tact and no real backbone.

“We stick to the plan,” Fry quipped. “We get the four cells back to the skiff. We're off this rock.”

Jay ran her shiv against the stone, seeming unaware of the conversation. The angle of metal was a crude version of his own curved blade, but he knew that the power of the weapon was in the person who wielded it. 

“I hate to ruin a beautiful theory with an ugly fact, but that sandcat is solar. It won't run at night,” Paris got up to stand beside Fry. Riddick kept an eye on their movement.

“So we carry the cells,” Fry said. “We drag them. Whatever it takes.” The lady had balls.

“You mean tonight?” The kid curled into a ball of limbs, “With all those things still out there?”

“All right,” Johns starts and stands. “Now how long can this last? A few hours? A day, tops?”

Jay scoffed quietly beside Riddick, eyes unmoving from her shiv. Riddick watched her. The others seemed to glance anxiously amongst themselves. No one knew for sure. Not that it bothered Riddick - or the Credian for that matter. He had been surprised by her eyesight in the dark, the toothy smile she had flashed him in the dark, eyes blown wide and incredibly feline-like.

‘ _ What a beautiful, dangerous animal.’ _

“I had the impression from the model,” the Imam said, “the two planets were moving as one, and there would be a lasting darkness.” He and his last boy sat together with their heads bowed in grief.

“These suns gotta come up sometime,” Johns proposed. Riddick could smell the inkling of fear seeping from the merc. “If these creatures are phobic about light, then we just sit tight and let the sun come up.”

“I’m sure somebody else said that locked inside that coring room,” Fry replied, her eyes bore into Johns.

‘ _ She can sense the spineless as much as I can _ ,’ Riddick thought with admiration.  It was a persuasive point, the woman was smart. 

Johns pushed “We need to think about everybody, especially the kid. He’ll be scared out there in the dark.” The group's eyes swung to the girl. She whimpered.

“Don't use him like that,” Fry barked. Riddick watched the fury on her face.

“Like what?” Johns asked.

“As a smokescreen. Deal with your fear,” Riddick’s mouth quirked up at the corner.

“Why don't you shut up for two seconds, and let me come up with a plan that doesn't involve mass suicide?” Johns demanded, his voice rose in volume. Jay chuckled from her spot, she had stopped sharpening her shiv and was twirling it in her fingers.

Johns turned and snarled at her, “What are you laughing at?” Jay throws him a glare.

There was a pause before Caroline continued, “I'm waiting.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “How much do you weigh?”

Johns snapped, “What's it matter?”

“How much?” Caroline pressed. Tension electrified the air.

“Around 79 kilos, to be exact--” Johns was interrupted as Caroline butted in.

“ Because you're 79 kilos of gutless white meat, and that's why you can't come up with a better plan,” there was strength behind the woman’s voice that hadn't been there when she told Johns about her role in the ship’s crash.

“Is that fuckin' right?” Johns got up, aggressively angling his body towards her and his gun gripped tightly. Riddick stood on instinct blocking Johns, his shiv held between them. “Where are you goin'?” Johns snarked.

Johns’ gun was pulled up and pointed towards his face, but he paused when he felt a light tapping on his pants. Realizing what it was, Johns nodded at Riddick; shiv in hand, poised over the merc’s groin, Riddick had him beat.

“Pussy,” Jay hissed and both men whipped their heads in her direction. A poignant glare was leveled on Johns and Riddick grinned. There was another moment of tense silence.

“You come up with that idea yet, Johns?” Jay asked sarcastically and leaned back in her spot.

“Will you rag that fuckin’ mouth?! I’d like to see you come up with a plan,” Johns shouted and leaned in her direction. 

“Bet I could--” Jay started to say but was interrupted by Johns’ outburst.

“The fuck you could,” his twang twisted with rage, “stupid fuckin’ Credian trash! You can’t even fuckin’ read!”

Jay froze and all eyes turned to her, wide and waiting. 

“Wha’ did you jus’ say to me?” Lips peeled back, she bared her teeth. Leaping forward, Riddick intercepted her as she sprung from her seat, hands on her shoulders. He held her away from the merc. Riddick knew that if he let her go, Johns’ blood would be spilled. Jay pushed against Riddick’s hands, her deceitfully smaller body creating more force than would be anticipated. She was a powerful woman and was not to be underestimated.

“Watch your back Johns,” she growled in a low voice, “you might find my blade in it.” Her blade jumped in her hand.

“This solves nothing,” the Imam spoke from his spot. The light seemed to grow dimmer. Johns backed off first, glaring at the Credian woman.

“They're afraid of our light,” Caroline went to sit by Jack. “This means we don’t have to be afraid of them.” The light-haired woman tried to comfort the child but she still quivered in fear. Jay stepped away from Riddick and sat. The shiv she had gripped tightly now twirled quickly between nimble fingers.

“And you are sure you can get us there?” Imam spoke into the strained quiet. “Even in the dark?”

“No, I can't,” Caroline conceded, “but they can.” Riddick looked up from watching Jay’s blade dance in the firelight. His milky eyes catching as Jay’s head swung up. The two peered over at Fry.

* * *

FRY

“Stay close,” Fry whispered to the others. Her hands shook, but she tried to brave her own fear. The group followed close behind her as she led them through the dark crash ship with the wavering torchlight. Fry silently praised that she knew her way around what was left of the deck. The cargo door cracked open in a grating slide. The torch was flipped into an open flame and pushed outside. Sweeping around, Fry jumped down onto the sandy ground. 

“Wait,” Fry said. There were low whoops and clicks off in the distance. She froze and the others drew up behind her. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

“We’re good,” a soft feminine voice spoke from beside her. Fry jumped in alarm, she hadn’t heard Jay approach. Nodding, she led the group through the debris. 

The Credian unnerved Fry in a way Riddick couldn’t. Jay didn’t have the bulking intimidation that Riddick had, and, although both criminals seemed to have a predatory presence, she was fast, lithe, and vicious like a stray animal. Fry thought of the woman’s outburst in the cargo hold; golden eyes flashing in the firelight, canines sharper than the average person, she had snarled like an animal. Not that Fry had ever met a Credian before, her preconceived notions of them fell flat. The woman’s otherness could not be ignored. The primal animal calls beyond Fry’s flare shook her from her thoughts.

Soon the group reached the main container. Johns cocked his gun behind her. She lifted the torch in order to light the entrance of the cabin. Riddick stepped around light and Fry felt the heat of his arm as he snuck between them. He removed his goggles. Looking into the wreckage, he didn’t seem to see anything. 

“Looks clear,” he spoke.

Fry glanced over at the Credian, who shrugged. Shouldering past, Johns moved to go in first, but, as he stepped forward, a monster swooped over their heads, fleeing the cabin. The group yelped and hit the ground. The creature shrieked as the light hit it and it swooped into the night.

“You said ‘clear’,” Johns said accusingly from the ditch.

“I said, ‘it looks clear’,” Riddick informed him.

“Stop whining, Johns,” Jay muttered. The woman might scare her, but Caroline was suddenly grateful that the capable woman beside her had a shiv and knew how to use it.

“What's it look like now?” Johns ignored the woman’s jab.

Riddick glanced up the ridge rechecking before he remarked, “looks clear.”

The group scrambled aboard. Jay butted in front of Fry and she watched as the graceful woman led the way through the dark.

“Get the lights,” Fry said. 

The group powered up the cabin’s emergency light system. Grabbing batteries and more cells from the power bay. They managed to thread the lighting runners around the sled, leaving enough cord to wrap around their bodies. Paris managed to gather his higher proof alcohol, threading nylon cords into the bottles. They were going to burn like high-octane fuel. Oxygen canisters were swapped out and everyone worked in relative silence.

Fry went looking for their voluntold guide and brushed into a side room. Jay leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “-- you know I can’t guarantee--” she said in a hushed tone but stopped as Fry entered. Her eyes unmoving, shestared as if to say she wasn't going continue. Fry awkwardly cleared her throat. She assumed she had walked in on a private conversation. 

“So how’s this going to work,” she turned Riddick. Goggles off, he was attaching a hand light to the coil of his breathing unit. Shined eyes glimmered in the shadows. 

He waited until he was finished to respond, “we’re gonna run through the night like our asses are on fire.” Riddick’s tone was casual and husky. He stood, leaving the room and Fry following on his tail. “Imam and Johns will pull the sled,” Riddick glanced at Fry before walking around the light in the room, he raised a hand to shield his face, “I'll be runnin' 10 paces ahead. Jay will watch our asses. I want light on my back but not in my eyes.” Jack looked up as they passed, “and check your cuts. These bad boys know our blood now.”

* * *

The others finished lashing cords to the sled, running the emergency lighting tubes from a battery.

“Are we actually going to do this?” Jack asked in a shaky voice.

“We stay together. We keep the light burning; that’s all we have to do to live through this thing,” Fry asked and placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder. Giving it a squeeze, she flashed him a sympathetic smile. Jack seemed hesitant but returned it.

“Come on, we’re almost ready to go,” Fry nodded her head in the direction of the sled. Her palms were sweaty and her heart thumped heavily under her breast, but she tried to quell her fear. Taking a deep breath, Fry went in search of the group’s stragglers. She found Johns sitting in the shadows of a corridor. He palmed a gun shell like the ones packed with ampules of morphine.

“ Ready, Johns?” Fry said. She tried to ease the scorn in her tone, but the merc was vile and snide. He didn’t respond.

“Look, we're just burnin' light here,” she pressed and cocked a hip impatiently.

“You give him the cells and the ship…” Johns drawled from his spot against the wall, “... and he will leave you all out there to die. He’ll leave all of you.”

The fear of what Johns said flashed through her mind. She would have had to be stupid to not consider that Riddick might very well leave them all for dead, but she didn’t want Johns to know. He would pick at her fear and pull apart her courage like the manipulative bastard she knew he was.  “I don't get it, Johns,” Fry began. “What is so goddamn valuable in your life that you're worried about losing?”

He didn’t respond. “Huh? Is there anything at all?”

“Besides your next spike?” Shaking her head, she dropped her hands from her hips and marched away.

The cabin lights died as they pulled the last cell and Johns came out from the dark, his gun loaded. Fry caught how his hands shook. The group hovered around the loaded sled.

Fry went over to where Imam was helping his boy into his harness. Jack and Jay geared up at the back of the dog-sled. “You ready?” She asked them. Imam turned to his last boy and chimed something in Arabic. The acolyte nodded. 

“Yes, thank you,” Imam replied. Fry’s attention turned to Jay, who had rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and was bent tying the laces on her boots.

“Ready?” Caroline repeated. The Credian glanced up, golden eyes glinting from the fire. The light caught the scar on her temple and glossed the darkness of the woman’s hair. Fry’s eyes involuntarily drew to the woman’s forearm where a dark identification number was scrawled into her tawny skin. Eyes darting back to the woman’s face, she was locked into a fiery stare. Fry averted her gaze.

Jay came to stand and replied, “yeah.” Her shoulders back and body loose; she looked prepared. Fry nodded in acknowledgment. She couldn’t help but think back to what Johns had said back in the cargo hold.

‘ _ Can’t even fuckin’ read,’ _ he’d said. The ‘verse was vast and a lot of people were isolated from mainstream civilization, but she had been surprised by that remark. She almost felt ashamed of her shock. Fry wondered what all the woman had been through. She wanted to ask, the temptation bubbled but she withheld her questions.

Jay angled away from Fry, dismissing her. She wriggled into her breathing unit. A hand light was attached to the back and she adjusted it across her chest. Jack was hovering nearby. Lighting already in place, his stance shifted side to side with eyes fixed unseeingly on the sled.

“You good, kid?” Jay asked the boy as Fry stepped into her  loop of glowing tubing. 

The kid’s eyes shot up at the voice. “I’m good,” but his voice shook.

“I know you are,” Jay teased with a grin. “I’m askin’ if you’re okay.”

“I’m kinda scared,” the kid looked down at his boots. Baggy clothes draped over a small frame, the boy’s youth was painfully raw and Fry wished she could just take him away from it all.

“That's okay,” Jay rasped, her voice dropping as Paris approached and she leaned in conspiratorially, “I think Johns is shittin’ his pants right now.” The kid giggled lightly and his mouth quirked up in a smile. Fry couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her.

Righting her posture, Jay nodded at Jack. “We’re gon’ be okay,” she reassured the kid. “Stick close to the sled and stay in the light, alright?”

“Alright,” the kid replied.

‘ _P_ _ lease,'  _ Fry silently prayed to whoever would listen, _ 'let me get them off this rock.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Oh, man... I feel like that was a lot of detail. Please let me know if you felt like it was too much. The action was a lot of fun to write and I'm super pumped to finish the next few chapters of their race through the desert.
> 
> \- I hope I'm writing Jay as the (sometimes rude) badass I want her to be. She is a product of her environment, to say the least. She's not afraid to get her kicks on Johns in when she can and the snarky banter is so much fun, but we'll see in the coming chapters if one or the other of them reaches a breaking point.
> 
> \- I'm starting to enjoy writing from Fry's point of view. I originally wrote her as a filler and to give insight into a civilian POV through the chaos, but I'm focusing on her development as a character through the plot and her symbolism of human courage.
> 
> \- Hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Work in progress! I edit as I go, but please let me know if there's anything big worth mentioning. Sometimes my eyes don't catch it. Xo


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